SNOWSHINE
by Bryton4ever71
Summary: Another QAF Faerie Tale! Following the plot of Snow White with a cop theme. I hope. Also a kind of what if story. How would the gang's lives turned out if Justin and Brian had never met? Much more lighthearted than my last one. PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will

not generate any money whatsoever.

A/N: Well, I'm back! Now that that nasty attempt at Sleeping Beauty is over and done with (YAY!) I proudly present something I really wanted to do, my stab at Snow White. It has a cop theme but since I'm a _terrible_ detective and know less about the cop system, the story will somehow touch on other things. Will be much more light hearted and humorous. I also wanted to insert cold and winter references more for the people who are living with the terrible heat wave plaguing the East Coast/middle of North America but it just wouldn't happen. Think cold thoughts as you read this people. It is to these wonderful people and fellow writers that this story is dedicated.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 1

Once, in the great city of Pittsburgh, there lived a young man named Justin Taylor. He was 25 years old. He had white hair. It had been blond once. But more on that later. He had blue eyes that shone when he was angry or happy and a bright smile that lit up his room when he chose to use it. He was the youngest police officer in his precinct.

When he was almost eighteen, his father found out he was gay when his parents found his sketchbooks filled to capacity with practice sketches of the male form, many of them anatomically correct...and some incorrect, to the point of being caricatures. Anyhoo, when his father found out, that was it. Justin was disowned and kicked out of the house. The very night that Justin had been planning to go out and check out a gay bar, to discover himself changed drastically into a night of survival. He packed a backpack full of things, swallowed his pride and made his way downtown and checked into a homeless shelter for the night. And the next day, after seething with the injustice of it all, he made a solemn vow to uphold justice in any way he could. He went to the precinct overseeing Liberty Avenue where he had been planning to cruise and volunteered and then hired himself out as a police artist. He used the very skills that had got him kicked out to sustain himself and catch and identify crooks to boot.

And as soon as he had turned eighteen, he enlisted in the police academy. The rest, as they say was history.

In spite of being a very good cop and in spite of being...mostly happy...Justin always felt an emptiness, a strange feeling that something was missing, that he had missed...something...like an appointment.

He supposed it had all gone back to that night he had been kicked out. He was going to go down to Liberty Avenue in his cutest cruising clothes, which would include a stellar pair of tight jeans, and hang out and ask other fags questions about what to do, where to go, and maybe in the process lose his virginity.

Instead, he had dressed in layers, had been all baggy and had a heavy backpack to worry about. He was wearing three hoodies with one of the hoods up, covering his buttery blond hair. The outside hoody was white, the hood was white and it blended in with the snow that was on the ground. It was old snow but Justin could smell new snow in the air. It was bitterly cold and his fingers and toes were numb. So instead of lingering he had hurried.

On the other side of the street was a club called Babylon. It seemed to tower over everything else in the area like the real Babylon of old. Justin passed under a streetlight and just then a group of men came out. Justin stopped a moment and watched them come out stamping and blowing on their hands in the cold, their breath coming out like smoke. He could tell immediately which one was the leader. They all looked to him the way flowers look toward the sun. He had brown hair, a sneer that said I'm hot, and I know it. And he was hot! Justin looked out of his hood, knowing his own face was in shadow and knew he was looking at the hottest man he would ever see in his life. He was classically handsome and it seemed to Justin he was looking into the face of...

"Get lost, hippie!" Justin felt a hand on his shoulder and shove. His sneakers slid on a patch of slick black ice and before he could stop himself, he had slid three feet sideways and tumbled into the arms of a huge guy coming out of a place called Meathook.

The bruiser looked him over and pulled down his hood but said, "Sorry kid but I'm looking for someone with a bit more...meat, if you catch my meaning."

Justin didn't.

"You'd better stick to Boytoy." But before Justin could ask what that was, the hulk had shoved him in the right direction, causing Justin to bump into someone else. That one shoved him along to another and that one to another and soon there was a lively game of "twink pinball" going on. By the time, Justin had extricated himself, he was half way down the block and thoroughly disoriented and pissed off. He was going to consider losing his virginity to one of _these_ knuckleheads? What was he thinking?

He looked back along the street at the beautiful man and for one moment thought, "Now him...Him, I'd let."

However, that dream was dashed by the next thing he saw.

The asshole blond twink who had shoved him out of the way was leaning against the lamp-post. His skin was creamy, his hair all blond and "messy on purpose" He was dressed warmly but casually in all the right things, dressed for cruising, not for wearing what you own and surviving like Justin. His blond hair shone in the lamplight. His blue eyes made doe eyes and he was looking up at the beautiful brown haired man who had seen him and moseyed over.

"What are you up to?" the gorgeous face of God asked.

"About 7 inches. How about yourself?" answered the twink.

"Aren't you a cheeky twink?' said the man but it wasn't a question.

"In more ways than one," said the twink, pressing his crotch into Brown Hair. "Care to find out?"

Justin turned and hurried away. He hunched his shoulders against the cold but it did nothing to quell the ice that had lodged itself into his soul. He did not want to hear Brown Hair's answer. And he never saw the beautiful man again.

**%#$#Summer's Heat makes thing's grow... Soon Winter's Wind will bite and blow$%#%**

Until now.

Justin walked around a corner of a hallway in the station on his way to his desk and nearly walked into the chief of police with Brown Hair walking right at his right hand.

"Taylor! Glad I ran into you! I'm going to be making a general announcement later but this gets one grunt out of the way right now. Brian, this is Justin Taylor, one of our top men in the drug squad! Justin, this is Brian Kinney! Kinney owns Kinnetic, a top advertising firm who's agreed to be my campaign manager. I'm running for mayor!" finished Chief Stockwell.

"He still looked like a god. His brown hair was styled, his features had matured a little but otherwise he looked exactly the same as she did on the street all those years ago. Justin was glad his police cap was pulled down snugly over his own hair. He wasn't ready to let _that_ cat out of the bag straight off. Brian's eyes were hazel, the color of rich chocolate and his lips were thin but his mouth was wide and expressive, that is Justin would bet they were if he wanted. However, at this present time, Brian's lips were pressed into a thin line that didn't seem to be planning on doing much else. His shoulders were wide, his hips were thin. His suit fit him deliciously. It looked Armani. Brian held himself erect; his eyes were cold, assessing, but beautiful. Somehow, Justin could imagine him from another era and he could imagine if he had a crown, he'd almost look regal and…dare he say it...like a prince.

Justin held out his hand. "Mr. Kinney. How are you?" He smiled brightly and gave Brian's palm a quick stroke with a finger and felt a jolt of elation when he felt an answering stroke on his own. Brian was putting up a good front for Stockwell's sake but somewhere in there, Brian found him attractive.

"I'm doing well. Nice to meet you, Officer Taylor. But you can call me Brian. Mr. Kinney makes me feel old."

"Something you won't have to worry about for a long while, I'm ..." Justin did a double take. "Wait! Did you say mayor!" he asked Stockwell, shocked.

"Indeed I did. Onward and upward, Taylor, onward and upward! Well, as I said, I'll be making the general announcement later today. Until then, it's hush hush. Understand?"

"Yes sir!" Justin saluted smartly and stood to one side to let the bigger, more imposing men pass by and on to Stockwell's office. "Nice to meet you Mr. Kin – Brian. I trust I'll see you again?"

"I think you can count on that, Officer," returned Brian smoothly. And then he was gone. Again.

But this time Justin had no intention of letting Brian get away. He had no idea what was going on but for that brief time that their hands had touched, Justin had felt...complete. That emptiness had been filled, the missing part of him had melted away like a finger-numbing snowball in a hot August sun. He didn't understand it, but he knew now, Brian was somehow the key. And he would find out more. After all, he was a cop. It was his job.

In the mean time, he ran off to find Marge and Florence, the office gossips. Hush hush, his ass! Marge and Florence prided themselves being the grapevine in this precinct. Once they knew, the entire station would know that asshole's plans in ten minutes and the entire Pittsburgh Police Force in ten minutes after _that._

**%$#%Splashing cold water on your neck will cool you down all over#^%&$#$**

As Justin rose through the ranks of the police force, he had eventually, as Stockwell had said, gravitated toward and chosen to join the drug squad. And he was good at it too. He earned his pay, went undercover a lot and made a lot of drug busts. Mary Jane, crystal meth, E, coke, crack, he sleuthed his way through his cases, sniffed his way straight to drug lords and busted many of them, shutting down many drug rings. But no matter how many he did, it seemed 6 more cropped up in their place, like an evil hydra of old that could not be beaten.

And once upon a time when he was 22 or so, he was on a case involving a coke ring. But the bust went bad. Justin and his partner, Cody's cover was blown, there was a terrible showdown, a gunfight, and a desperate run for their lives and in the end both the drug lord and Cody lay dead. Justice lost a vile criminal to punish and Justin lost a best friend.

Justin was heartbroken and traumatised. He went to bed blond but when he woke up the next morning his hair had turned completely white. It did not thin. It did not fall out; rather it grew even softer, thicker, and more luxurious than ever. After the shock had worn off, Justin tried to pass it off as being white blond but it was no use. Eventually he had to face facts. It was white. Old man white. As white as snow. And after a certain time had passed and because people are cruel, because it had happened because of a coke bust, because, eventually Justin started to specialize in coke busting, and because his skin was almost as flawless, fair, and white as his hair, people and especially his fellow cops called him Bunny or White Rabbit during the warm weather. Justin found this _most _grievous, as he was _not_ albino. His eyes remained as piercingly blue as ever. Although the warm weather seemed to grow shorter and shorter every year, and the winters seemed to stretch longer and longer and eventually it seemed to be winter all the time. And it was during the winter, they would call him Snow or worst of all, they would call him Snow White.

**%$$#Ice cubes on your forehead#%$^$**

Brian walked into Stockwell's office and Stockwell shut the door, shutting out the noise of the police station and giving them privacy. Both men took seats, Stockwell behind the desk and Brian in front of it. Stockwell booted up his computer.

Brian had his calm and composed mask on. Most of his faces were masks. The calm and composed one he wore now. The straight one he wore when he went out with Lindsay and Gus. The disdainful one. The smirking, sneering, one that said, I'm so hot and you think so too. The holier than thou mask he would wear while visiting a church until he had picked out a hot parishioner (Brian loved it when they were a father as well) whereupon he would deliberately wink at the guy, and drop the holier mask for seconds at a time through the service and flirt outrageously. The minute after the service had ended he and the guy would be in the bathroom making out, sucking, even fucking quietly in the stall. And every time, as soon as the guy had cum, Brian would lean close to the guy's ear, lick it and whisper: 'Where's your God now?' The stunned, shellshocked expression on the guy's face each and every time would make the whole boring churchgoing experience worth it.

Yes, Brian had many masks to satisfy the many heteros that he hated so much who ruled the world he lived in. But the one face he never managed (not that he could remember) was a smile. A wide, expressive genuine smile. He never laughed and he never genuinely smiled.

He managed a fake, wan smile now for the biggest hetero bigot of them all. Heteros ruled the world and soon this sexist, egotistical homophobic hetero bigot would rule the city as well and Brian would get him there. He felt a perverse sort of pleasure in doing so, like picking at a scab or being sickly sweet to a hated relative. It was inevitable, so why not? Not to mention, he would make a dump truck load of money by doing so.

Yes, Brian wore his composed mask right now, and he had to work hard on it for he was rattled. Running into that absolutely _sc'rump'tious_ cop with the electric blue eyes and smile that could light up a room had done that to him. He had felt that sensuous tickle on his palm and knew that he was silently and secretly (right in front of his boss to booty) ((uh, boot)) being propositioned and had returned the signal. He wanted that ass but more than that, he wanted to see that smile again, the smile he could never manage, never feel himself. And so, he wanted to make Justin smile like that...over and over and over. To do that...to do that would be like...basking in sunshine.

"That cop we ran into in the hall...what's his thing again?" Brian asked, in his most bored voice as if he had already forgotten, it was so unimportant.

"I told you, he's just a grunt in the drug squad. Specializes in cocaine busts. Goes undercover a lot. In fact, I think he's up for another promotion soon."

"Sounds like he's quite a bit more than a "grunt"."

"I call all my men grunts. That's all they are, after all. Besides, I'm the chief. I can call them whatever I want!"

Brian sighed. "Chief Stockwell, you are running for mayor now. People are going to look up to you. We have to make them want to be you, like you, respect you. We have to make them want to shake your hands and kiss their babies. No one will want to have you do that if you don't humble yourself and if you call people names. So the first step is showing your own employees that you like and respect them. You can't call them grunts, especially the higher ups, the one who work hard and get results."

"Hmmm, good point. Good thinking, Kinney!"

"Something you would have thought up yourself if you bothered to use that packing peanut you call a brain," thought Brian. Out loud he said, "That's why you pay me the big bucks, sir." They both laughed.

"Say Kinney, check out this site. I check it every day." Stockwell swivelled his screen and showed it to him. "People sign in and tell stories about positive experiences they've had with officers and a tally is made every day and the most popular cop is chosen based on the top twenty. The site's called Top Cops."

"Interesting," said Brian who of course thought that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard of. "And who's number one?"

"One guess," Stockwell gloated, "Come on baby, tell me what I want to hear! Who's the Top Cop of them all!" he ritualistically chanted as he pressed refresh. And of course he was at the top of the page as number one with his picture larger and more prominently displayed than everyone else's. "Bingo!" he ejaculated triumphantly.

"Goody for you," Brian said drily as he scrolled down the page ogling the handsome men as he did so. "Ahh, I see Taylor made the cut. Seems he's less and less of a grunt as time goes on."

"Bahhh! He's way down at number 18! I'm number one! I've _always _been number one!" he bragged.

"Humility, Stockwell, humility, remember! I'd keep this site to yourself for the next little while, like a guilty little pleasure. If you don't care that you are number one, or appear that way, it'll keep you there. As well..."

The rest of the hour continued along this thread, with Stockwell being a complete ass, and Brian gently correcting his behaviour, instead of smashing his fist into his face and watching him bleed onto his expensive carpet. Finally, Brian could stand it no longer, and glancing at the time on his cell phone, feigned needing to go to another meeting.

"A meeting with Jim Beam," he thought to himself. Out loud, he said, "If we're going to announce this thing, we might as well do it now. Sooner better than later."

Stockwell agreed and they made their way out onto the floor.

"Listen up, Grun...uhhhh, Men!" Stockwell yelled, in response to Brian's quick elbow jab. "I have an announcement to make! Your leader, the Chief of Police is..."

"Running for Mayor!" somebody screamed, "Three cheers for the Chief! Hip Hip Hooray! Hip Hip..." This was followed by a rousing rendition of "Hail to the Chief". Balloons with Congratulations and Good Luck and the like were released. A spontaneous party broke out with music and freshly ordered pizza and donuts and other pastries gotten from a local bakery forty minutes ago, and a cake thirty minutes ago.

Stockwell was furious. His thunder had been stolen. His face grew redder and redder until it resembled a beet. But there was nothing he could do in the face of a party. And so, as soon as he could, he swallowed his rage and humiliation like a bitter ball of a pill and smiled and started to accept his congratulations.

But it wasn't soon enough. Someone had seen his red face of rage and smiled. Someone who had eyes only for the regal figure next to the Chief. Someone in the back of the room, with his cop hat pressed snugly down, concealing his white hair.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 2

"TAAAYYYY – LOR!" the tantrum-like yell rent the air.

"Sigh!" Justin thought, "And just when it was turning out to be _such_ a lovely day!"

It was nearing the end of the day. The party was winding down and Stockwell had decided that he had shaken his last hand, said his last thank you, accepted his last congratulations. He had cornered Justin in the locker area where Justin was getting dressed in his street clothes.

Thinking quickly, Justin pulled his officer's hat back down over his hair just in case...

He was right. Stockwell stormed around the corner with Brian hot on his heels. Justin's heart went pit-a-pat.

"TAYYYYYYYYY – LOOORRRRR!" Stockwell screamed again right in Justin's face, like the nightmare boss he was.

"I'm right here sir. I'm blond, not deaf."

There was a strange sound that sounded like a strangled snicker but when they looked around, Brian's face was impassive.

"That's debatable...Snow!" Stockwell sneered, "What I DO know for sure is that you are the only one I told I was running for mayor AND I told you that it was hush hush! This is inexcusable!"

"But Sir!" Justin returned in his best valley guy voice, "I only told one per-suuunn and that was like, in the totaliest, like _strictest_ of confidences! I guess he told two people and they told two people and they told two people and so on and..."

"...So on and so on!" finished Brian, "Isn't that from a commercial?"

"Well, you'd know! You tell me, Ad Man!" Justin said with a deliberate wink.

Brian moved behind Stockwell and returned the wink, held it for a moment before gazing deep into his eyes. The entire thing was about 3 seconds long and reduced Justin's insides to mush.

"This – this is inexcusable!" ranted Stockwell.

"Yes, you said that," returned Justin in his normal but bored voice.

"WHO! Who was it? Who did you tell?" screamed Stockwell.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir, I can't tell you that," returned Justin.

"And why not!" ground out Stockwell dangerously.

"I promised I wouldn't tell," said Justin innocently.

Stockwell looked so mad he could have bitten through a parking meter.

"THEN YOU'RE FIIIRRRRED!" Stockwell screamed.

Justin sighed a very long sigh, the patient kind you do when you are dealing with a young child or someone very, very stupid.

"Sir, you cannot fire me. I am deep undercover on a case and I'm only here today to bring everyone up to speed and file paperwork and because I told everyone there that I was visiting a sick aunt. If I don't return to their hideout tonight, they'll realize they've been infiltrated and move, ruining 6 months work. And tonight, I'm planning the bust whereupon as of, oh, say midnight tonight, you'll have to give me another promotion."

"Is that right?" Stockwell whispered leaning in so that they were nose to nose.

"That's right!" returned Justin brightly.

"DAMN YOU, SNOW! I'LL GET YOU ONE DAY!" Stockwell yelled so loud, they probably heard him down the block. And without waiting to see if Brian was following him or not, Stockwell stormed off, slamming every door he came across. And this was the cop shoppe, baby! There were a lot of doors.

As it was, Brian did not follow him. It was nearing the end of his pay day as well and besides given the choice between a sc'rump'tious hot cop (number 18!) and a raving loon, Brian wisely decided on the hot ass cop.

Justin shrugged into his street pants (he had been in his tighty whitey underwear this whole time) and gave a very un "coplike" giggle.

"He tries to fire me every week," he explained with his back to Brian. He had no idea if Brian was there or not but he spoke with the confidence that Brian would be there.

"Why's that?" asked Brian in a bored voice to hide the fact that he had a throbbing boner.

"Because I'm not afraid of him and I show it. I'm young, beautiful, blo – well, I'm gay. I get the job done, and I get results. So I can afford to show my disdain. And I am disdainful. I'm a gay cop in a mostly straight station with a straight, homophobic bigot as a boss. I hate him as much as he hates me. Only I –"

"Aren't a screaming lunatic?" Brian asked drily.

Justin tapped his nose. They both laughed.

Brian turned serious again. You were going to say blond again weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Why did you stop?"

"I have my reasons," said Justin.

"Why did he call you Snow?"

"It's a nickname."

"Because you're blond? That's stupid."

"No. Not because I'm blond," Justin said sadly.

"Then why?"

"Damn it, Brian! Just leave it alone!" Justin shouted harshly.

"Yes sir! Officer Sir!" Brian saluted stiffly and turned on his heel. He strode toward the door. He grasped the handle.

"Wait!"

Brian stilled. "Yes, _Officer_?" he ground out the title.

"I'm...I'm sorry Brian. I didn't mean to yell. It's just that...it's a touchy subject. I'll...I'll tell you..."

Brian turned around. Justin had on street clothes now and where his cap was, was now a knitted white toque that covered his head and hair like a skullcap. "Yes?" he said, "I'm waiting."

"I'll...I'll tell you...over dinner."

Brian put on his best smirk which was the closest he got to smiling and meant he was happy or smug or both. "Lead the way, Officer. So, does this mean, I'm _under arrest_?" he asked in play.

"That all depends on how _good_ your _behaviour_ is," answered Justin. "Do you like Italian? I know a good little place."

"My _behaviour_ is very good," replied Brian, He slowly stalked over to Justin and pressed up against him. Almost. "Some say it's the very best. Are you sure you wouldn't like to just go back to my place and order Thai?"

Justin ran a splayed hand across that broad chest and then pushed him back a bit. "No. I'm in the mood for Italian. I'll pay. And if you still like what you see after...dinner, you can take me home. But later on tonight. Tonight I work, remember? Cool your jets."

"Yes, Officer," Brian said, still playing but now his voice was a throaty whisper, "Italian it is. And _I'll_ pay! Lead the way!"

Justin smiled a brilliant smile, the one that made Brian think of Caribbean sunshine. He took Brian's hand but said nothing. And what more was there to say? He led the way.

**$^%$#Chocolate chip mint ice cream&^%^**

The place Justin took him to was small and intimate. Each table had its own space and there were even a few booths. Each table had a red and white checked tablecloth and a white, round, fat candle. And each booth was a curved half moon shape against the wall. Each booth had a curtain that could be pulled across for extra privacy. The lighting was low.

"Officer White!" a fat Italian with a bushy black moustache dressed in chef's white and a tall chef's hat bustled over. "Why you no come see Luigi more often? Why you stay away so long, bello?" He kissed him quickly on both cheeks European style.

"Sorry, Luigi. I've been busy."

"Si, si, I know all about your work! Running after fiends stupido!" Here the man regressed into worried Italian and kissed Justin on the cheeks again. Then he started, and noticed Brian for the first time.

"Chi è questo? Qualcuno di speciale?" (_Who is this? Someone special?)_

"Forse ... Vorrei un tavolo per due. Intimo," Justin replied. (_Perhaps. I would like a table for two. Intimate.)_

Brian started. Justin knew Italian? But then again why not? Justin was a cop and went undercover a lot. He probably knew a few languages.

Justin and the chef began a lively conversation. The chef threw a friendly arm around Justin's shoulder and his other arm around Brian's back as he was too short to reach Brian's shoulder. He guided them over to a booth in a corner and sat them down.

Then he told Brian, "Now, you no worry, si? Any friend of Officer White is friend of Luigi! Anything you want, you get!"

"Anything huh?"

"Anything, bello, What Luigi do for new bello amico?"

"Tell me why you are calling him Officer White. His name is Taylor."

"Cosa vuol dire? Uhh…what you mean?" Luigi was genuinely confused.

"Luigi...two waters please! Also, two specials and after…those mint gelatos...if you have them?"

"Of course…of course! We always have for you! Always! Guido! Acquas! Acquas! Hurry for Officer White! Hurry stupido!" The fat chef bustled off.

"I hope you don't mind. I ordered us both spaghetti and meatballs. I figured it would be generic enough that you would like it."

"That's fine. Won't it be a little high carb though?"

Justin laughed and his laugh was like music. "Oh Brian, this is an Italian restaurant! Everything on the menu except the water is high in carbs! But don't worry. One meal of spaghetti won't hurt that flawless physique of yours."

Brian smirked at the compliment. "Thanks. So why is Chef Boy R Dee calling you Officer White?"

Justin ignored the question. "And if you're really worried, simply do an extra set of twenty of everything on your next workout and an extra ten minutes of cardio whatever and you should be fine." He smiled brightly.

"Brian growled, "Justin…" dangerously.

"I love the way you growl my name. Do it again."

"Justin…."

"Oh yes! That's the way!" Justin threw his head back in pleasure.

"Justin! Tell me! And tell me why Stockwell called you Snow! Or I leave! Right now! I don't play games and I don't like head games played on me!"

Justin sobered. Oh Brian! Don't be angry! It's really quite simple Luigi, calls me Officer White because that's what he thinks my name is! I do undercover work a lot. I have to do some this evening. And so I have lots of names."

"That doesn't explain Stockwell!" Brian growled.

"No. No I'm afraid it doesn't." Justin said sadly. "Scientists are baffled!"

Brian crossed his arms.

"All right, all right, I'll tell you. Just…let's wait until the water gets here."

So they waited for water and Justin drank in the sight of Brian's chiselled jaw and chocolate brown eyes that he might never see again after tonight. He sighed deeply.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Brian.

"You're so handsome. You rattle me. I can't look at you hard enough. Your lips. Your eyes. Your eyes are amazing," answered Justin.

Your eyes are pretty amazing as well, Brian admitted, "They flash like electricity is running through them. It's strange though…"

"What is it Brian?"

"Well, I've mellowed out over the years but even so, I rarely look at or notice a guy's eyes. Or care. But yours…yours I feel like I could look at forever. And…this is weird…as if I should have been looking at them for a long time now. And I mean like…years ago. Is that strange?"

"Yes. But it's stranger that I feel the same way. What do you mean you mellowed?"

The water came, delivered by a skinny kid with pimples. They didn't notice.

And so, Brian told Justin about his past, about being a party boy, about seeking out sex every night with hundreds of partners. Eventually though, he wondered what or who he was even looking for and grew confused and so stopped his nightly quests. He focussed more on business, grew in the ranks of the company where he worked but eventually stealthily gathered a list of clients who would follow him and started his own company.

The spaghetti came. Brian tore himself away from Justin's eyes and shook himself. "Hey! The food's here! You have to tell me now! Why do you have Snow as a nickname?"

"I'll tell you. But we're having such a wonderful time. I'll tell you…after we eat."

"No! Now! Or I walk."

"Three quarters of the way."

"Half...aaaannnnd...I have 6 meatballs on my plate. "Brian indicated the orbs of meat and inhaled their intoxicating fragrance of unique spices. When I get down to the last one...you tell me. Deal?"

"Deal." They shook on it and Justin didn't want to let go. Neither did Brian. And so, they didn't. They ate and held hands and Brian made little swirling motions with his thumb on the inside of Justin's palm creating sensations that rocked Justin's world and went straight to his dick.

And so they began to eat. But the true feast was with their eyes as they feasted on each other. Feeling that he had talked enough about himself, Brian asked about Justin's past. And so, Justin told him about his father disowning him and kicking him out on the verge of his self discovery. Brian was outraged. He told him about being a police sketch artist until he graduated and then entering the police academy. He told him about being gay in a police station and Stockwell's hatred and jealousy for him because in spite of being good looking and a fag to boot he still managed to make bust after bust making it impossible for him to fire him.

And the more Justin told him, the more Brian felt a strange tightness in his chest. His heart beat faster. He watched Justin's blue eyes, his white, knitted skullcap, his white skin, and his plump lips that stood out in stark contrast, like drops of blood upon fresh snow. And as they ate, as Justin talked, Brian knew he wanted, nay, he _must _kiss those lips this night. He must kiss them over and over and over, and then again...tomorrow morning.

And as they talked they ate and the pasta dwindled and Brian's meatballs disappeared until 3...2...1 was left. Justin eyed it nervously. And then Brian was spiking it with a fork and biting it in half.

"Last one, hot stuff. Spill."

"Did you know I saw you once before, long ago, before today?" Justin asked, desperately trying to deter him.

"No more stalling, Justin. We had a deal. Wait – you did?"

"Mmm-hmm. Years ago. But it was you."

"Well you can tell me...after. Spill."

Justin sighed. The time had come.

"First, I want to apologise for stalling so much. It's just, I wanted to meet you, talk with you, be with you so much, as long as possible. And after what I show you, you may want to leave so I wanted to enjoy you as much as possible. There is another reason Luigi thinks my name is Officer White. This is why Stockwell calls me Snow." Justin took off his white knitted cap and revealed his white hair, which was a bushy mop from the static. Justin took out a comb, used some water from his glass to wet his hair and combed it neatly into a part to the right. And then he just waited. Waited for Brian to laugh. Waited for him to gasp in horror. Waited for him to bail.

But Brian did none of those things. Granted, he gave a start of surprise, as everyone did and his eyes widened a bit. But all he said was:

"This? This is it? White hair? Is that all?"

"Justin smiled. "You're very kind. But no, that is not all. It's being young and having white hair. It's having white hair...all at once. Some people call me Snow. Some people call me White…or Whitey. White Rabbit, but that's mostly around Easter. And...some of the guys call me Snow White."

"That's terrible!" exclaimed Brian.

"Some people, like Luigi heard me being called Snow or White and assumed that was my name and so call me that as Officer White, or Officer Snow. And I let them. It's simpler and it makes them happy. And it gives me a certain anonymity when I need it. For example, no one at the station knows I come here." Justin gave a wan, sad smile.

"But you said you were blond!" Brian said.

"I am...I was – blond. And I'm only twenty-five. I still feel blond. And so, sometimes...I forget." Justin opened one of those small packets of butter they give you at restaurants, those little ones that are designed to get you to make a mess and only contain "not quite enough" butter for whatever you want. "Once...my hair was this color, indicating the little yellow pat of butter. Yellow, buttery blond," he said wistfully.

Brian took a bite of spaghetti and chewed slowly. Justin sat there miserably as he waited for Brian to think up some excuse to leave and run like a rabbit.

But Brian was not a rabbit. "He chewed and swallowed and said, "I don't really care for butter. It's fattening and besides, do you know that they use food color on that butter to make it look yellow? Real, freshly churned butter...is white. Cheese, too."

Justin looked up with sad, shining eyes. "I did. But not many other people do."

"True. Say, what's the matter, sad eyes?"

"I've been waiting for you to decide you've had enough and bail."

Brian moved closer to Justin around the curve of the booth. "Then you wait in vain. I'm not going anywhere. Not for something as simple as hair color. Who would do that?" He moved closer.

"Many men have," Justin said.

"Fools, the lot of them," Brian said as he took Justin in his arms. He pulled back a second and said, "Oh wait! This isn't gonna get me charged with assault is it?"

"That's when I'm on duty," Justin said, smiling.

"Oh good! Because this next bit would get me thrown in jail!" And Brian grabbed him by the shoulders pulled him hip to hip and kissed him.

It was soft at first, exploratory and then Brian's tongue snaked out, seeking entrance and Justin opened willingly. Brian groaned. Justin tasted better than he imagined, spicy like the meatballs, with a musk that was male and new to Brian, a taste that Brian knew was Justin's unique taste, unique scent. It was a taste he would never forget. A taste he would crave like water for the rest of his life and never get enough.

"Wait!" Justin pulled away and then zipped the curtain closed. "They know me here, know I'm gay but this gives us more...privacy, don't you think?"

"I do. I like the way you think, Taylor." And he grabbed him again and kissed him again, an all consuming, killer kiss, that went on and on and on until Justin thought he would explode with pleasure right there. It felt right. They fit together like a lock and a key and their souls joined as one. The sense that Justin had that he was missing something vanished like it had never been. He felt completed at last. And he knew he had been right. Brian had been the key to what was missing.

By this time, Justin was cradled in Brian's arms. His head rested on one big bicep and Brian was using that hand to hold his head and run his fingers through that silky mop of hair. His other arm lay possessively over and around Justin's chest moving up and over his nipples, settling around his waist for a good long session of tongue banging, and then start to roam again. They only came up for air and whenever they did, Justin wouldn't even open his eyes and simply murmured one word. "More." And Brian would smile wolfishly and happily comply.

**%$#^&Cool Fact: Oceans, Lakes, Rivers and Pools often have icy cold water in them!#^%*&**

A cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"This is Stockwell. I want you in my office at 1 AM or whenever the hoopla tonight has died down. Snow White claims he's making another bust at midnight!"

"Sir, my partner and I –

"MMMMMMM-?" a growling noise that meant huh?

"Really?" He rolled his eyes. "Fine! I was planning on going to bed by 10! I have a ton of paperwo…"

"I don't care if you were going to Disneyland! My office! 1 AM! I have a job for you! And you'll do it! You owe me! Remember that time a month ago I –"

"I remember! I remember! All right! All right! I'll be there! Damn you!"

"The devil beat you to it! Be there! Or else!"

There was a click.

**(*&%^^$#$^Cool Idea: Watch a Christmas Movie&**&*^%$##**

Some time later, there was a patting on their curtain. "Did someone order the gelato?" Luigi called out.

"Shit!" Justin sat up quickly and tried to straighten his now impossibly mussed up hair. Brian buttoned up his shirt and not quite straightened his tie.

"Yes, Luigi, we're ready for you," Justin called and pulled aside the curtain.

"Here you go! Here's gelato, icy and delizioso! Here – What's this, you no finish spaghetti? Why! Why you no finish Luigi's spaghetti? You no like?

"No, Luigi, We liked –"

But all the temperamental man heard was no. "Oh, you no like Luigi's spaghetti and meatball I make just for Officer White and new friend! I make just like Mama make! Oh, I put wrong thing in! I do wrong! I do wrong!"

"Luigi! Luigi! Calm down! Perfetto! It was perfetto!" Justin yelled and hugged the chef.

"Perfetto? Dawero?" the black moustachioed man asked with tears in his eyes.

"Dawero. Really," answered Justin, glad to have averted a full blown meltdown.

"Then why you no..." And then Luigi looked at the two men, really looked. He saw Justin's hair askew and Brian's rumpled suit and crooked tie. "OHO! Luigi sees! Officer White and new friend find better thing to do than...eat! Luigi sees all! Nessun problema! Nessun problema! I wrap up!"

"Oh don't go to any..." began Brian.

"No trouble...No trouble...I wrap up!" said Luigi in a no nonsense, that's final type of voice that was useless to argue with. And before they could blink, the plates were gone and so was Luigi. The only thing remaining were the two small bowls of minty green icy gelato ice cream with chocolate chips dotted throughout.

"It's useless arguing with him," Justin said in affectionate confirmation. He drew the curtain closed again and cuddled up to Brian again. The two men sat beside each other now in the rounded back of the booth. They ate their ice cream and occasionally fed each other a spoonful, mindful of each other's clothes.

"So...how'd it happen?" Brian asked. He felt the other man tense and amended, "I mean, if you want to. I can understand if you don't want to talk..."

Justin sighed. "No, it's OK. Truth be told, I was waiting for you to ask. They always do. Might as well get it out of the way."

"I won't go into graphic detail. But, once upon a time, about three years ago, in my 22nd year, I was undercover with my partner, Cody. No..." he confirmed without having to be asked, "It wasn't personal, just my police partner. But we were getting there. He was gay too. He called us the Pink Posse. And together we were dynamic. We brought down a lot of scumbags. But this time..." he took a deep breath, "This time it went wrong. Our cover was blown. We went in there...and they just knew. We ran for it but there was nowhere to run. Shots rang out everywhere. I got two before I was able to pull open a door and get out of there. Down a hall. Down some stairs. Out. We were out. We were running out of the alley and he was just...he was just there. We were trapped. He shot Cody point blank in the chest. He would have shot me too but I was too quick for him. I shot him. I shot him and I was glad. I went back to see if there was anything I could do but there was nothing. Cody died almost instantly. His heart had beat once, maybe twice shedding some blood upon the snow. I closed his eyes and got the hell out of there. There was no time to do anything. I wished I could have done something...anything but I couldn't think...I couldn't think of anything to do." He teared up a bit. I ran to safety, phoned it in, and then went home. When I woke up...I was like this."

"Oh my God! And people make fun of you for _that_? That's terrible!"

"A lot of people don't know the details. Some are strangers and call me White the way they call a guy Slim or Fatso. They don't think. Others know but the story has faded through time for them. They don't remember. And so they only see me because I'm all that's left. To some people, I simply am white haired, have always been white haired. And so the names stuck. And now that's all it is...another name...it's not even an insult anymore."

Brian grabbed him and dipped him deeply across his lap again. "I make a solemn promise. I will never call you those names. Never." And he sealed the promise with a deep kiss.

When he pulled back there were tears in Justin's eyes. "Thank you," he said simply. "I'm going to hold you to that." He reached up and stroked Brian's cheek. Brian leaned into it. And then he pulled Brian down for another mind mushifying round of kissing.

**%##%&%#Remember last December?^*^&$**

"Oh hell! It's 8:00 o'clock! I have to go!"

It was a little while later. It was simply too soon.

"Do you have to?" Brian said languidly. A full stomach, a case of blue balls, and an adorable man draped and cradled in his arms had him feeling lazy.

"Yes. I'm afraid so. I have to go to work. But I should be done by midnight."

"Call me when you're done?

"Brian? Are you sure you want this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Being a cop's wife…lover…boyfriend…whatever…It's a big responsibility. Being a cop is a dangerous job. I can be injured. I have been injured. I could get captured. I could…go missing…or…be killed and you'd never know. Sometimes the not knowing is the worst of all. Would you be able to handle that?"

"Well, I certainly don't want any of that stuff to happen to you. And isn't it a little soon to be thinking along boyfriend/lover lines. And Brian Kinney is definitely no wife!"

"Yes, I noticed that," Justin said, giving Brian's dick a squeeze. Brian gasped as such a pleasure shot through his dick that he nearly shot right there. "Husband then...and I know it's soon...but I felt it the moment I saw you this morning. I wanted you. I needed you. And I could see that you wanted me too." He looked up into Brian's eyes. "If I was wrong, tell me now. No one gets hurt, we had a great dinner, a great date. And we can leave it at that. But I don't feel like that. I feel like you are my lover, have been my lover for a few years now. Tell me I'm wrong and I can walk out of here, no apologies, no regrets."

Brian looked down at the crystal blue eyes that were so clear and wide and open. He watched as the feathered lashes came down over them as he blinked and then looked at him some more as Justin talked. And as he looked, he was lost. He knew he could not live without seeing those eyes the first thing next morning and the last thing when he went to bed tomorrow. With many, many rounds of fucking in between.

"You're not wrong. I look at you and I feel the same way. But I'll be honest with you, Justin. I don't understand love, just fucking. Nobody's ever loved me before and I haven't loved anybody either. But I will be your lover. Somehow...I always have been. Haven't I?"

"Yes, I think so too. But my question still stands. If something happens to me tonight...or any other night...could you be strong? I could come back to you stabbed or injured in the hospital. Could you stand it? I could end up...like Cody. I could..."

"Oh stop, stop!" Brian hugged him to his chest and pressed him close, "Stop talking such terrible things! You'll wish them on yourself! And honestly, I don't know! I don't know! To have such terrible things happen to you...would be like having them happen to me! I'd hate it! But I'd be there for you! But how bout you give me a bit of a break? It's our first night. Can't you just give me a promise or a token so that I'd know if something were to happen to you?"

"Actually...that's a really good idea Brian. And I can do both."

Brian released him. "What do you mean?"

"First, the promise. I promise to call you on the stroke of midnight. If something goes wrong or I'm injured you will know if you don't get a call at midnight."

"Next, the token. I want you to have this." Justin pulled back his sleeve and unsnapped a leather bracelet he was wearing. This was given to me by my grandfather who was given it by his grandfather who was given it by his grandfather who was given it by...well, you get the picture. It goes many generations back and is supposed to be imbued with special magic."

The bracelet was two thin leather straps joined together with a short length of rawhide with three black beads strung through it. Justin snapped the ends of the leather onto Brian's wrist and the three beads rested on the bottom of his wrist, right on the pulse point. He explained that he had the snaps put on; it originally tied on. Justin held the beads and said "Guard me with his life."

"Isn't that..."Guard this with your life?"Brian asked with a wink.

"No. According to my grandfather. I was to say those words when I placed it on the one I was to give it to. He probably meant a grandson but since that ain't going to happen...I determined to give it to my lover. Which is you. The magic was that as long as I am alive the pearls would move freely on the string. If anything should...happen, the pearls would become fixed. And I believe it."

"Why?" asked Brian.

"Shortly after my grandpa died, they became fixed and immovable. They have never moved...until right now."

They both looked in awe at the three black pearls (for that's what Brian could see they were now) which spun and slid along the rawhide, clacking a little against the ends of the leather.

**&^#%-Eat cold food or make something in a crock pot – It generates less heat than a stove^&(_)*&**

Brian paced the floor of his Loft. Again.

What the _fuck_ was wrong with him? He should be reading or watching TV or having an innocent drink of Jim Beam or going out to Babylon or...something.

But he couldn't read more than a page at a time before realizing he'd forgotten everything he'd read in the first place. The TV was insipid noise. He'd had a drink an hour ago and it had hyped him up so much he was afraid to take another. The idea of the crush and heat and smell of sex and sweat of Babylon made him want to puke when he thought of it. Besides it was about 10 o'clock. Not enough time to get there and back before Justin called. Better to stay home.

Brian sat down on his couch and luxuriated in the fine Italian leather. Justin would be fine. This was his job. Did this every day. Night Whatever.

Almost as a reflex, Brian moved his wrist and heard the comforting "clack...clack" of the pearls as they moved back and forth. Justin was fine. He was alive. He was fine. He was.

After he had given him the bracelet, Brian had whipped out one of his business cards and indicated his cell number which was the number Justin needed to call. He wrote his home address on the back.

"You _will _come to me...tonight!" Brian growled out in his best throaty, vampire, mind control voice while staring deeply into Justin's too blue eyes but feeling a little hypnotized himself.

"Ohhh...yes SIR!" Justin had replied before Brian could resist no longer and crashed down his lips upon his for the last time. Justin kissed back and then tore himself away and had said, "But now I really gotta go. I will call you at midnight. Farewell!" And then he was gone.

Brian was left with his arms feeling empty and useless, with his soul feeling as equally as bereft and abandoned, and with a huge bill that he could easily afford. He'd thrown down a few Franklins without even looking, received the proffered cardboard take away packages ("Luigi, every eco-friendly! No icky styrofoam at Luigi's!") and had left.

And so here it was a few hours later. Bored and tired and hyped and worried out of his tree.

"Clack..clack..." He was alive. He was okay. He was. It was 10:30.

Brian's head lolled.

Blood upon the snow. Snow White. Shots in the dark. Rose red on white snow. Somewhere in the dark Brian heard a snarling, a low growling. A white wolf stepped out of the blackness. Its fangs glistened and foam dripped from its mouth. It snarled and barked and jumped at Brian's throat. Brian punched and ducked and hit...nothing... He looked over and saw a pool of blood on the snow. And then two wide and staring too blue eyes...

"NO!" Brian jerked up, his own eyes wide and wild with sweat on his forehead. He breath was heaving and he jumped up and paced again. He went and got a glass of water.

"It was a nightmare. Just a dream.

"Clack...clack."

Brian checked. It was 11:00.

Damn it! Damn that stupid little twink! He'd filled his head with all this fatalistic shit and now he couldn't get it out of his head. He was going to be fine. He was.

"Clack, clack."

He paced a bit more and checked the clock. 11:10.

He paced again and checked again. 11:05.

What the fuck! Did the time seriously go backward? Was he going nuts? It had been 11:10! Hadn't it?

Brian flopped onto the couch again and closed his eyes. A pair of sky blue eyes looked back at him. Wide and staring.

Brian's eyes snapped open and he jumped up again. He paced and paced and paced again. He wouldn't close his eyes again.

11:30...11:45...11:55...Brian began to heave. It was almost time. He stopped. He couldn't move. He stared at the cell phone on the coffee table like it was alive.

11:58

11:59

12:00 AM. Midnight.

The phone didn't ring.

Brian sat down and stared at the goddam phone, willing it to ring

It didn't.

He concentrated harder. Ring! Ring!

The phone didn't ring.

12:01

No. No. No. Nononononono...

12:02

"Clack! Clack!"

He was alive. He had to be. He had to. The pearls moved. Where was he? Where the FUCK was he? He promised he'd call. Why wasn't he calling?

Capture. Torture. Shot but alive. Blood on the snow. Tied up and gagged. Helpless.

12:05

He wasn't calling. Something was wrong. Something went wrong. Horrible images of blood, of torture, stabbing, cement shoes filled Brian's mind. He pressed his palms against his eyes and sat, rocking willing them away but the darkness only made them all the more real, clearer.

12:10

There was a keening sound, a primal sound of despair, hopelessness, helplessness and grief that Brian had never heard before. With astonishment, he realized it was coming from him.

At exactly 12:12 AM his cell phone rang.

At the first ring, Brian thought he had imagined it. He stared at it like he was seeing a ghost.

The phone rang again, vibrating as it did so. It moved on the table sounding like an electronic fart.

Brian snatched it up. He dropped it. He grabbed it again and opened it with shaking hands. "Hello!" he growled.

"Hi Brian! We got 'em!" Justin's voice was like vocal sunshine.

"Justin! What the HELL! You said you were going to call at midnight! I thought...I thought..."

"Why Mr. Kinney!" Justin's voice was a sexy purr that went straight to Brian's dick. "Were you worried about me?"

"Of course not...I...I – I was concerned because YOU were late!"

"But I wasn't late. Did you know that midnight...real midnight is actually a little before or after 12? Tonight...midnight was exactly 12:12 AM."

"I did NOT know that! You might have said something before!"

"I didn't know you didn't know."

"Well, I DIDN'T! Do you have any idea what you..."

"Yeeeeeeeesss?" Justin's voice was vocal velvet.

"Nothing." Will you just get over here?"

"Why, Mr. Kinney! Were you waiting there for my call?"

"You know damn well I was!"

"And Mr. Kinney! Were you checking your pearls as you waited for me?" the sexy purr was working even more powerful magic than the pearls.

"I – I – Yes. I was."

"And Mr. Kinney! Were you counting the minutes waiting for my..."

"WILL YOU JUST GET YOUR NUMBER 18 HOT COP ASS OVER HERE...NOOOWWWW!" Brian bellowed.

"On my way." He hung up.

**^(&$Pressing your forehead on a icy windowpane($^()(**

Buzzzz!

"Yeah?"

"This is the police! Open up! I'm looking or a big growly wolf of a man named Brian Kinn – "

BUUUUZZZZZZ! The door was unlocked.

Justin opened the heavy front door and went inside. He climbed the stairs to correct floor and knocked on the heavy loft door.

"Who's there? Who knocks on my door?" said a growly voice, rough with desire.

"The Pitts PD! A young man fair of face and hair of spun gold. Well, it used to be."

"Oh, I seeee! So one of the Pitts finest…Pigs knocks on the door of my brick house. Why should I let you in? You're late!"

"I may be knocking on a house of stone but this little Pig is more interested in…wood. I didn't mean to be late. Let me in."

"From now on midnight means 12 AM. That's twelve oh oh AM! Understand!"

"All right. I understand. Oh Brian, I'm sorry. Really I am. Come now. Open the door and let me in!"

"Swear you'll remember!" The voice was rougher with desire, with pain, with raw need.

"Twelve oh oh! I swear I'll remember! I swear by the hair on my chinny chin – "

The loft door exploded open, off to the side. Two arms reached through and Justin was grabbed, lifted off his feet and pulled through. The door bounced back, slammed and locked.

TBC

A/N: OK well there:s Chapter 2. Are you all having as much fun as I am? I hope so. Side Note: Thank God! I just saw on the weather channel that the heat wave is over and/or it is raining on the East Coast so hopefully things are more bearable. A good thing too because I was running out of Cold ideas! LOL. However, if you are still hot, I have one more idea. Re read The Ice King by ME while you are waiting for Chapter 3 Later all! PLEASE REVIEW!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 3

_Last time on_ Snowshine...

"Swear you'll remember!" The voice was rougher with desire, with pain, with raw need.

"Twelve oh oh! I swear I'll remember! I swear by the hair on my chinny chin – "

The loft door exploded open, off to the side. Two arms reached through and Justin was grabbed, lifted off his feet and pulled through. The door bounced back, slammed and locked.

_And now..._

Justin was hoisted off his feet and into two burly arms. He felt two large hands cup the globes of his ass. The world spun and blurred and he caught only a glimpse of images beyond. A sink. A black couch. A big screen TV. And then his vision was filled with two narrow, chocolate brown eyes that flashed with a myriad of emotions. Anger, fear, although he'd never admit it, lust, and wanton need. Somewhere behind him, in a place that didn't really matter, Justin heard a something that sounded like a door slamming.

"Oh, Brian, I'm so so –"

But he never got out anything more, for next moment he was slammed up against said door, still hoisted in the air, and lips were smashed against his own. The hands began to knead the cheeks of his ass and while it wasn't the most erogenous of zones, it still felt...incredible. "Mine..." the hands said, "This ass...is mine."

Justin groaned in pleasure. The lips were nipping and gnawing his lower lip and then a warm, wet, large tongue was requesting...no demanding entrance and Justin was helpless to refuse. He kissed back with equal ardour and still it was not enough. He wanted more. He needed more. He threw his arms around Brian's neck and pressed himself in as close and as hard as he possibly could. It was not enough.

They bit and laved and sucked and devoured each other with a ferocity that surprised them both. After about a minute they pulled back and looked at each other with heavy lidded eyes. Justin was still pinned up against the door.

They were both heaving with desire. Slowly, Brian let go of his ass and slid his hands slowly up the sides of his body causing such pleasure Justin shuddered. Justin's legs slid slowly to the floor. Up his neck. Justin whimpered. Framed his face. He couldn't breathe.

"I'm having that strange feeling again," Brian said.

"I feel only you," Justin replied.

"I can't get enough of you. Like I'm trying to cram a lifetime into a few minutes."

Justin smiled a blinding smile that lit up Brian's life and said, "Well, you know what the solution for that is, don't you?"

"What?"

"Don't. Don't ever get enough." And he pulled him toward him until Brian kissed him so hard and so deep that he felt as he were trying to devour him. And a fire of desire set Justin aflame so that indeed...he felt utterly consumed.

Brian grabbed Justin by the ass again and lifted him with ease and carried him to his bed, his lips never leaving Justin's. The bed was a huge, king size number against the far wall and behind screens that shielded it from the rest of the room if need be. It was raised on a kind of dais.

It was to this altar that Justin was carried, and thrown down upon. Almost immediately, Brian's lips were upon his own again. His cop hat fell off. Brian picked it up and put it on.

"Mmmmmmm...You know, I think I could definitely develop a fetish for uniforms," Brian quipped.

Justin smiled. Then he remembered and it dimmed a little. He grabbed for his hat but Brian pulled back and wouldn't let him have it.

"Brian, please," he said.

"Please what?" Brian leaned forward and kissed him witless.

Justin grabbed the hat back. "Please, this," he said saucily and put it back over his hair.

Brian uncrowned him and re-crowned himself. "Ahhhhh!" he sighed, as he straddled Justin's jeans and sat up, "Now I'm the officer! And you have the right to remain...sexy!"

"Come on! Give it back! It's police property!"

Brian grew concerned at Justin's serious tone. "What's the matter? Don't want to play? Well that's OK. We'll find...other...games to play." He tossed the hat to the side out of reach of both of them and hoisted Justin farther up on the bed and straddled him again. He started to unbutton his shirt.

However, he grew concerned when Justin's face screwed up in sadness and he seemed to retreat into himself. Brian was reminded of a turtle that was pulling itself into its shell and indeed this very well may have been the case.

"Why? Why did you have to do that?" he mewled in complete misery. He reached up and with his black gloved hands, fingers splayed, covering as much of his head and hair as he could.

Roughly, Brian grabbed Justin's wrists and pulled them off again.

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare cover up that beautiful hair! Not for me! Do you understand! It's the best part of you! I won't allow it!" he whispered furiously into Justin's ear, knowing very well what the hot breath puffing into his ear was doing to him. He plunged his own hands into the silky softness and massaged it, massaged into it, massaged his scalp until Justin relaxed back into pleasure, back into passion. He began to purr with pleasure.

"Are you sure? Are you sure it's not like...oh my God, is that legal?...doing it with an old man?"

"It's the best part of you. I wouldn't have it any other color," Brian declared.

Justin gasped in joy. He jackknifed up and kissed Brian with all that he was worth, trying to transfer some in not all the exhilaration and happiness he felt in that moment into Brian. Brian returned the kiss, divesting Justin of his police jacket and white tee shirt as he did so.

Justin started to peel off his gloves, you know, one of those skin tight numbers that cops sometimes wear. Brian stopped him.

"Leave 'em on!" he growled suggestively.

"Justin raised his eyebrows. "Oh really!" he reached under Brian's shirt, stroked his sides, stomach, and up to his chest with his leather gloves. Brian arched in pleasure, his breath gasping in pleasure and anticipation. "Have I touched upon another fetish of yours, Mr. Kinney?"

"Brian...and could be...could be..."

Justin smiled like a cat who's caught the canary and found Brian's nipples. Brian stopped breathing.

Justin pinched and twisted and saw the unique side of Mr. Brian Kinney, Mr. Armani, ad exec extraordinaire, come completely unhinged.

"OH YEAHH! OH FUCK! OH THAT'S IT! OH JUSTIN! OH FUCK!" He struggled to undo the buttons of his shirt but Justin's ministrations were making his whole being vibrate and tremble like a tuning fork. "Oh fuck it!" he yelled finally and pulled the thing apart down the middle, sending buttons pinging in every direction. Justin was treated to a feast for the eyes. Brian was perfect, at least in his eyes. He ran his gloved hands up and down Brian's gym sculpted physique, 8 pack abs, gorgeous wide chest, big arms. He gloried in what was his at least for tonight, and then stroked his way back toward Brian's large, dark nubs again. Brian sucked in a breath in anticipation.

Justin chestplayed him again, harder this time. Brian convulsed in pleasure and his eyes rolled back. A little concerned, Justin eased off a bit.

"Don't you dare! If you stop now, I'll die!" Brian rasped.

"Well! Can't have that!" Justin purred, and continued even harder.

"OHHH! OH, GOD!" Brian shouted out to a Deity he didn't fully believe in. But right now, right this moment, he was willing to give it a shot because the pleasure coursing through his being, just _had_ to be a miracle. "OH JUSTIN! MY BEAUTIFUL! MY BEAUTIFUL, BRILLIANT, SNOWSHINE!"

Brian could tell at once he had made a mistake. A stupid, horrendous, horrible mistake. Justin let go at once and his face scrunched up with sadness. It was as if a cold bucket of water had been dumped over the entire situation. He crossed his arms over his chest as if hugging himself and tensed up with grief.

"You promised," he said, in this small sad voice.

"Justin, NO! I didn't mean it like that! I was...I was out of my mind! Forgive me! You don't understand! I –"

"Your promise is not yet even a few hours old and you have broken it already!" Justin said, "Let me up!"

"No! Justin, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it in a derogatory way! I swear! Let me explain!"

"No. Let me up."

"No! I can't lose you! Let me explain and if you don't like what you hear you can walk out of my life forever!"

"Very well, I'm curious. Deal."

"First off, I'd never call you anything I'd mean as derisive or derogatory. Two...yes, in a way it does have to do with your hair but mostly because...well, it's your smile. Your smile and your hair they remind me...Your smile is so bright it's like the sun that reflects off the snow and shines into your eyes. It's blinding. It's snowshine!"

A tremulous smile. "Really?"

"Really!" Please don't leave!"

A wider smile. "No one's ever called me snow in a compliment before." He smiled wider.

Brian smiled. He smiled and didn't even realize it. "There it is. The smile so bright, it shines brighter than the sun. He pulled Justin upward until they were chest to chest, face to face. He kissed him deeply, peppered his face with kisses, his neck. He hugged him closer and fitted his face against Justin's shoulder, cheek to cheek.

"Don't be angry. Please. Don't be angry. Don't leave." Suddenly his shoulders were shaking. "Justin..." he gasped out hoarsely, "I love you. I love you..."

"I thought you didn't know what love was. I thought all you knew was fucking."

"You just taught me. I knew when I was waiting and you didn't call. I love you. Please, if you don't like it, I won't call you that ever again. Just don't leave me. I didn't realize it but I was waiting. Not just tonight. For a long time now I was waiting. Now I know. I was waiting for you."

Justin smiled sensually, and lay back down and pulled Brian down with him. "You know that's –"

"Ridiculously romantic, yes I know."

"Well yes…but very, very sweet as well. All right. You can call me that. Only you." They pressed together and devoured each other in a kiss to seal the deal.

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_Next morning…_

Brian awoke slowly, in stages. He stretched. He felt heavy and sated and rested, more rested than he had in years. He looked over at the other side of the bed. And smiled. Now that that genie was out of the bottle, he was beginning to enjoy it more and more.

From the other side of the bed, there was nothing but a shaggy white mop top sticking out from the top of the bedclothes. Justin was completely covered up with his head on a fluffy pillow and was facing away from Brian.

Brian moved over and spooned Justin, wrapping his arm around his smaller frame. His morning wood poked Justin in the butt.

Justin's eyes of blue popped open. "Oh my! What's this!"

"Let's just call it a wake up call. Good morning, sexy."

Justin turned around. "And an enticing way to wake up it is. Good morning handsome hunk." He squeezed Brian's length between powerful thighs and began to pump. Brian groaned in pleasure. "Didn't you get enough last night?"

"I'll never get enough of you. Never." Brian kissed Justin deeply and then slowly worked his way down, over his nipples, past his belly button until he reached Justin's length, which was thick and hard from his own morning fullness. He took the cock into his mouth, deep throating it. Now it was Justin's turn to groan. Brian was a magician when it came to sucking. He bucked and kicked and grabbed the sheets. He found Brian's nips, which only spurred Brian on to greater efforts.

Last night, they had gone at it veraciously. They had sucked and fucked, rimmed and rammed. They used Justin`s gloves and handcuffs. Finally, after the third round of Brian`s dick up his hot cop ass, Justin had pleaded exhaustion. Brian had taken Justin into his arms and they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other, one entity.

"OOOHHHHHH!" Justin came in rush and Brian sucked down every drop. He smiled and licked his lips and kissed Justin hungrily, letting him taste himself upon his tongue.

"Well, I must say, this is a fantastic way to start the day!" Justin said, stretching languidly.

"Haven't you had a morning wake up call before?" asked Brian in surprise.

"Oh, yes, of course. Just...just not for a very long time," answered Justin, "So, what's on your agenda for today?"

"Taking the day off and having my way with you all day," leered Brian.

"Mmmmmmm, as much as I'd like that, I'm afraid I can't. I have to go to work and get my promotion. I'll be Detective Taylor. Although, I wish I could stay. I hate the press and the hot lights."

"Don't go then. Stay with me."

"I can't. I said I hate them. But I'll put up with them for the promotion. Not to mention the sourpuss look on Stockwell's face when he gives it to me." Justin laughed.

"So that's it. You're going to love me and leave me?" Brian said in mock hurt as Justin got up for a shower.

"Love you? Yes. Leave you? Never. On my word. Never."

He had no idea how soon his promise would be broken.

Brian watched him walk into the bathroom waited till he heard the water turn on and then padded after him on silent feet. He was still so hard that boy scouts could have camped under there.

And when he opened the sliding door and stepped into the glass, steamy, wet cubicle and put his arms around the smaller yet muscular man, Justin purred in satisfaction and smiled in joy. He pressed back against Brian and gloried in Brian's hard length against his back.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. (As if he didn't know!)

"Water conservation," replied Brian drily, despite the warm rain cascading down both their backs, mixing with the soap, making them both deliciously slippery. "Besides...would thou leave me so unsatisfied?"

Justin's eyes lit up and he spoke the next line: "Pray, what satisfaction can you have this morning?"

"Why a kiss, and the exchange of your love's faithful vow for mine," answered Brian.

Justin turned in his arms, soaping them both up as he did so. He smiled a snowshine smile and wrapped a hand around the back of Brian's neck. He bent him down and kissed him hungrily. "Truly, I thought I did. And yet…maybe I didn't. I wish it were so, so I could have a do over."

"Would you withdraw it? For what purpose, my love."

"But to be honest and give it to you all over again. My bounty is as boundless as the sea; my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite!"

And Brian smiled and his heart swelled with joy and utter love so he could hardly contain it. He smashed their soapy lips together in a killer kiss.

"And now, there is one more matter of satisfaction you can give me. However...since you do need to get going, I'll be brief!"

As he spoke, Brian plucked a condom from the stash he kept in the shower and ripped it open. Quickly he rolled it on. He whipped Justin around and next moment Justin found his hands and cheek pressed up against the glass. Brian's strong arm was around his waist, stabilizing him. And then there was lube and water and soap and Brian was entering him slowly and then pressing further in and then further, and then right to the hilt. Slowly Brian rocked back and forth, hitting Justin's prostate every time. The sensations were incredible and Justin could feel he would climax very soon.

"Oh, God! Oh, Brian! Oh happy dagger! Let this be thy sheath! Let this be thy sheath...until I die!"

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As they were dressing, Justin grew pensive.

"Brian? Are you sure this is what you want? I mean, I'm not sure what's going on here. We only met yesterday. We've had one date and a roll in the hay. What's happening? This is all happening so fast!"

Brian came up to him and hugged him fiercely. "I don't understand either, Snowshine. But that's the way it happens sometimes." He nuzzled his hair. "Mmmmm, my wonderful, hot cop! Sometimes, there's just this...this instant connection."

"That's the second or third time you've called me that. Why do you keep calling me hot cop?"

"I dunno. I heard it somewhere. OH! I know! It was in Stockwell's office. He has this site he goes onto…Hot Cops. Lists the 20 or so hottest cops in the city. He's number one (of course). You were number 18. Guess it stuck in my head."

"What! That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Who would take any kind of stock into that anyway!"

"Your boss, that's who! You should have seen him frothing at the mouth over it!"

"Well, it's dumb." Justin's face fell. "Oh. Is that why you wanted to go out with me? Because I was on this list? Because I'm a "hot cop"?"

"What! No! Justin, remember, YOU asked ME out! And I wanted to know what was bothering you. However, being on the hot cop list definitely, how should I say this...adds to your sexy factor!" Brian nibbled on his neck.

Justin pulled away. "Humph! Well I don't care!" He stalked over and started to finish up dressing. "Oh drat! I almost forgot! I carpool with my partner! I need to phone him."

"Over there," Brian gestured and then absently went to check out Hot Cops.

"All right, Snowshine! You're number 10!" he exclaimed.

"I don't care!"

Brian refreshed the page. "Holy shit Snowshine! You're number 7!"  
>"I'm on the phone!" Justin yelled, dialling.<p>

Brian refreshed the page. Oh, Snowshine! Oh this is great! You're number 5!"

"It's ringing! I don't care! I – wait! Did you say number 5!" He hung up abruptly and came over.

"That's strange! Why is it going up so fast?"

"Hey this is the Net! I guess your collar last night really made waves." He clicked onto the site's comments pages and typed Justin Taylor into the search bar. About 5 comments popped up.

"Well that's weird. I thought there'd be more traffic."

Justin sighed. "Try typing in Snow White." He said resignedly.

Brian obeyed and bingo! The screen was flooded. "Holy shit! Page 1 of…15! With 25 comments per page! No wonder it's going up! No wonder…oh Justin! I'm sorry hon."

Justin sighed again. It's all right. I'm used to it."

Brian hugged him tightly "You shouldn't have to get used to it. I'm really sorry."

"It's OK. I found you again. That's all that matters."

"You bet you did and I'm here to st – wait, did you say again?"

"Yes. You remember last night I told you that I saw you once before? Well, the night I was kicked out, I came down to Liberty Avenue on my way to the shelter. I wanted to cruise but my clothes were all wrong. I stopped under a streetlight…" Justin told him the rest of the story.

"Oh my Gooooood…." Brian said slowly, "I remember that night! Oh my God, I was so tweaked! I'd had so much E that night I could barely…"

Justin stood there, his feet planted apart, hands on his hips. He was wearing his gloves and hat by this time. "Yeeessss?" he asked sternly, "You could barely what, Mr. Kinney!"

"Oh! I…uhhh…could hardly believe somebody had slipped me a placebo! It turned out I was sober the entire night! I just thought I was tweaked!"

Justin raised one white eyebrow is such a way that it made Brian want to kiss him witless. With his partial uniform on, gloves, hat, jeans and no shirt, he looked incurably sexy. "Ohhh really?"

"Well, anyway, I remember that night. I even remember that little twink!"

Justin's shoulders slumped and he turned away. "I don't want to hear about it."

Brian stepped after him and turned him around. He took him in his arms and kissed the unhappiness away from Justin's pert lips. "No, Justin! You don't understand! Oh, I wish you had stayed and saw what happened after that!"

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_Seven and a half years earlier…_

"Aren't you a cheeky twink?' said Brian but it wasn't a question.

"In more ways than one," said the twink, pressing his crotch into Brian's. "Care to find out?"

Brian sniffed the twink in, inhaling a scent that was sweet but overpoweringly…artificial. He was wearing gel, cologne, aftershave, and a few other products that Brian couldn't identify. And…it was a total turn off. Brian felt like he was sucking in a new car smell.

"You know….I don't think so," said Brian.

The twink was still aching to be kissed by this paragon. At last, Brian's answer penetrated his drugged up mind. "Huh?" he managed.

"I said no. It ain't happening. WE aren't happening! You stink. You're so young you should be in diapers. And I have a jeep full of friends I have to ferry home. So get on back to Boytoy where you belong." He turned away.

The twink was outraged. "Oh yeah! Well, fuck you then! Fuck you! You're too old anyway! Go on back to you're old friends and ship 'em on back to the nursing home! You ain't that hot!"

Brian turned back and quirked an eyebrow. "Yes I am," he said simply. Then he walked away, leaving the twink alone under the streetlight shaking with rage.

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By the time Brian was finished his story, they were both collapsed on Brian's Italian leather couch, holding each other as they shrieked with laughter, helpless in their hilarity.

"O – M – G! You seriously did _not_ tell him he stank!" Justin gasped out finally.

"I sure did. It was the truth! Besides...I couldn't see it then...but now I realize...it was all wrong. We didn't fit. And even though I fucked around a lot...I still made sure it was on my terms. And now with your side of story, I see now...He pushed you. He pushed you out of the way. That night under the streetlight..."

"It should have been you," they finished together. They kissed a soft, sweet kiss.

The phone rang.

Brian picked it up. "Hello?"

"Uh, yes, hello. I received a call from this number and then it hung up. This is an official police number I should warn you that it's a serious offence to..."

"OH! Are you Justin Taylor's partner?"

"Uhhh, yes! Yes I am! Who's this?"'

"Nobody important!" Brian tossed the phone to Justin. "It's for you, babe!"

Justin caught it deftly. "Hello?...Yes, that was me calling a few minutes ago...Sorry, I got distracted. I was calling to let you know I'm not at home this morning...Never mind, that's why!" Justin giggled. "Look, pick me up at this address instead OK? OK!" Justin gave the address that Brian dictated to him. "OK...see you then." He hung up.

"He'll be here in 10 minutes," he told Brian. "I guess I better finish dressing."

"I guess," Brian said.

The mood turned somber as Justin got ready to go. Brian continued to strut around in the nude from the waist up in order to tempt Justin to stay.

And Justin was tempted. They spent the last five minutes, kissing and cuddling and stroking...chests (Justin used his gloves, driving Brian half-mad) until Justin knew that if he didn't get going, he never would.

"All right, Kinney! I gotta go! I'll call you around noon when all the ruckus has died down. Give me a bit of leeway and look...if anything should happen, if we get separated, just keep your bracelet handy and keep checking it." Justin lovingly affixed it to Brian's wrist. "I'll contact you as soon as I can."

"If anything should happen...I shall never take it off," Brian said.

"Are you going to be all right? You saw from yesterday how rough it can be when things are uncertain. This is my job. This is my life. And it's only been our first day."

"No. I'm not going to be all right. I'm going to worry about you every second of every minute of every hour of every day that you're in the field until you come back to me." Brian got up and framed his face and forced Justin to look deep into his coffee brown eyes. "But I'd rather worry about you and have you...then not have you at all."

They kissed each other goodbye with an intense passion they both felt but still yet did not understand. But they knew it had bonded them together, wherever they were in the world, forever.

After Justin had left, Brian returned to the computer and refreshed Hot Cops. Justin was at #3. He refreshed it a few more times. #2.

"Come on, Snowshine!" Brian whispered. "Come on! You can do it!"

Brian got dressed, gulped down a coffee and a bagel, all the while refreshing the page regularly. About five minutes later...Bingo! Justin was Number 1! He had pushed Stockwell down to #2. His picture had been enlarged and a short bio and the details of last night's bust were written next to it. Brian looked at it proudly before shutting the laptop closed and putting it to sleep to get ready to go to work, AKA damage control at Stockwell's campaign headquarters. He had a wide smile that he couldn't wipe off his face.

"My Snowshine! My Snowshine...the hottest cop in all the land! Well, the Pitts anyway. Stockwell's just gonna _love _that!" And he laughed rich and deep and delightedly.

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Across town, in his office, Stockwell sat as still as a statue. He was immobilized with rage. His face was purple. His eyes bulged out of their sockets. A vein throbbed in his temple. His hands were balled into fists. He made gurgling sounds in his throat.

He couldn't believe it. His favourite website had betrayed him. He was not the hottest cop! Thanks to the latest drug ring bust last night, that stupid queer Taylor had pushed his way up.

"That...ASSHOLE!" Words finally were forced out of his throat past the bile. "That fucking faggot! That slimy, cheating, stupid, _SNOW WHITE!_ He'll pay for this! Oh yes, he'll pay! He thinks he's coming for a promotion! HA! He'll find out it takes more than one little victory to stay on top. He'll find it takes HARD WORK! A real man's work and not this pansy ass effort!"

Besides there was always Plan B, already in the works. When that was deployed, Stupid Snow White would be destroyed, his career obliterated. And he would once more be on top. He'd be the Top Cop in all the land once more.

Stockwell`s face stretched into a wide smile that he never showed outside his office. He knew it made him look completely insane.

This, of course, was because he _was_ completely insane.

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Meanwhile, outside Brian`s building, Justin waited for his partner to come along to pick him up. It was very cold. He stamped his feet and blew on his hands while he waited but his toes quickly went numb.  
>However, it wasn`t long before a black and white pulled up alongside the curb. The driver unlocked the door. Justin yanked it open.<p>

"C'mon, hurry! It's freezing! You'll let all the heat out!"

Justin hopped in and slammed the door. "Don't have to tell me twice! Thanks a lot for coming to pick me up out this way. I know it was out of your way."

"No problem Justin," said Ethan Gold.

TBC

A/N: I hope you are enjoying the story. The Snow White storyline picks up in the next chapter as do the entrance of the 7 "dwarves. I contemporised and took some artistic licence with the R+J. I'm hoping the Bard won't mind as well as you all. After all, _that_ dagger will never rust!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

A/N: OK, this turned out to be a shorter chapter than others, at least I thought so but the final word count was over 3,000 words so maybe not. And before I knew it I was halfway through the next one so I kept going. So here for your pleasure are two chapters. PLEASE REVIEW! Also, apologies to those who thought my last chapter was not smutty enough but I did rate this as T/ PG 13 so I thought I'd better reserve myself to soft porn/smut and leave the hard core porn to the experts on here. Still no dwarves but I promise they will make their appearance in Chapter 5, I m working on it now. Patience is a virtue here, folks, and will be rewarded.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 4

Once upon a time Ethan Gold wanted to be classical music violinist. And he was good too. He could have done it.

But he couldn't catch a break at it. He ended up playing on street corners but no matter how much money he made, it was never enough. No matter who came to listen to him, it was never a person of influence, no one who could or would sponsor him.

He came home one day and a few boxes of his stuff were outside on the street and his locks were changed. Just like that he was homeless.

He had no way of carrying anything so he left everything to the mercy of the Pitts except for his violin and busked even harder. And when he could play no longer, grew too tired, could not make enough green or when his fingers started to turn blue, he took to taking walks in parks, along crowded streets and anywhere he felt he could get lost in a crowd in a hurry and pickpocket. Sometimes he made enough that way to get some dinner or rent a craphole motel for a night to keep from freezing.

Of course, there came a day where he was too cold, his fingers too blue and stiff to be light and limber enough to pull it off. He got noticed. He ran but it was no use. He was chased down and caught by none other than Officer Taylor. Justin was just a beat cop at that time and still blond and beautiful and happy.

After Justin had tackled him and rolled him and whipped out the cuffs, Ethan had slumped to the ground, a weary and defeated creature. He knew he had hit what they call rock bottom and he felt it at last.

His hands were numb and he did not feel Justin snap the cuffs around his wrists. The cold penetrated deeper, numbing his brain. His head hurt. Justin was droning on about something. Finally he stopped and waited for something.

"My head hurts," said Ethan. The cold penetrated deeper. He didn't care.

Justin spoke again. This time Ethan made out something about understanding rights or something.

"Yes, I understand rights. I also understand lefts," Ethan giggled. The cold penetrated deeper

Justin frowned. He looked closer. The man's hands were blue and his face was turning a light shade of blue as well. Uh oh. He felt his head and felt a nasty bump where he'd hit his head against the sidewalk. Double uh oh!

Ethan watched Justin, transfixed, as he leaned closer and touched him and stroked him. His hair began to glow. The cold grew deeper. Ethan leaned into the comfort that the hand offered.

"Bright angel with golden hair! Have you come to take me away from the cold of this world at last!"

I'm hardly an angel! I'm a cop who is here to punish your ass! And my hair is blond, not gold!"

Justin's hair, his whole being glowed brighter and brighter. "As bright as my name...I see only the gold!" whispered Ethan. There was a final flash of golden light and then everything went black.

He woke up in a hospital, under guard. He was warned if he tried to resist, he would be chained to the bed. He did not resist. It was warm. So blessedly warm, he didn't care where he was.

He was treated for a mild concussion and then transferred to jail. He was offered his phone call, he was provided an attorney, bail was set.

He did not use his phone call. There was no one to call. He declined the bail. He could not afford it and besides, as institutional and limiting as the jail was, it was warm. So warm. The one thing he really missed was his violin which they had taken away as punishment and because they were afraid he would use the bow as a weapon somehow. It was stored away with his personal effects somewhere.

The hours turned into days, the days to weeks, the weeks to a month. At last he had his time in front of a judge. The judge took in the fact of his injury at the time of arrest, the fact it was a non-violent crime, his good behaviour, and his time served and sentenced him to some community service and dismissed the case.

But the whole thing was a real wake up call to Ethan. He knew he had to do something with his life, something legit. And as soon as he saw his bright avenging angel testifying against him, he knew what that was. To follow in Officer Taylor's footsteps, to uphold the law beside his footsteps, instead of breaking it. So he changed his name to Nathan Golde and joined the police academy. As soon as he finished and was sworn in as a cop, he changed it back to Ethan Gold. No one really noticed by that time. Besides, people changed their name all the time right?

And as much as possible, he kept in touch with Justin and at every opportunity requested to be his partner. Truly, from the moment he had set eyes upon his bright angel he was in love with him and bore him no ill will for being his arresting officer. Indeed, it only made him more his mentor.

Alas, things are what they are, and love is what it is, and Justin never did requite his love fully. Ethan pined for a while, and then settled into a kind of bliss, a kind of dream state from which he never woke. He lived two lives. One was his normal waking life. He found an apartment, settled down, found a boyfriend and then partner of his own, bought a house, a dog. He only played the violin for pleasure now. In his other life, Ethan kept a picture of Justin in his locker, looked up to him, worshipped him, loved him from afar as they worked. And finally, there was that nasty business with Cody, his Angel's gold had transformed into pure, virginal white, and Ethan loved him even more than he thought was possible. He put in a request to be his partner as soon as possible, asked Justin himself, and was overjoyed when Justin had agreed. After all, they had been work buddies for a long time now and Ethan had always had his back.

Which brings us up to speed.

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Ethan pulled out into traffic.

"Congratulations on making detective!" he said, "That was a great collar last night!"

"Well, don't count yourself out! It was a team effort."

"Oh, I was just in the van downstairs recording everything and being backup. They don't give promotions for sitting in a van. You did all the real work. You're a real maverick, Justin." He could not keep the hero worship out of his voice.

Maverick. Rebel. Individualist. Loose cannon. Risk taker. Justin thought about it and had to admit that to an extent...a large extent...Ethan was right. Had been right. But Justin could see now that all his risk taking, his gunning down of crooks with no thought of his well being was a product of his missing half. His missing half that was now complete. He was suddenly weary. Weary but happy. So happy. He didn't want to maverick anymore.

"You may be right, Ethan. But not anymore. And for goodness sake, don't look up to me for that!"

"But why not? That's what gets you the promotions! That's what gets you all the guys!" (Except me!) he thought wistfully. "And I never see you happier when you run off all half cocked out of the station or down the street after a perp and forget all about me! When that happens...that's – that's when you're truly happy!"

"Do I do that? Oh, Ethan, I'm so sorry!" Now that he thought back, he did remember doing that a lot, letting the thrill of the hunt fill his being and forgetting everything else, leaving Ethan, everyone, everything in the dust.

"Oh don't be sorry! That's what GPS and walkie-talkies are for! And besides, I never once thought about stopping you or holding you back. That's when the light in your eyes goes on and you're happy! Truly happy!" Ethan reiterated. "And I'd do anything to make you happy. Anything."

You'd have to be completely oblivious to not get the double entendre and Justin was hardly oblivious. He was and had been aware of Ethan's crush for quite some time. But he could not return it. He supposed it was the maverick in him, preferring to go it alone in life both on and off the job. Oh, he was able to pick up guys with ease but they were always one timers. Until now.

"Ethan...I know how you feel about me," Justin began carefully, "But I've never felt anything back and I've never led you on to make you believe otherwise. Have I?"

"No, Justin," Ethan said. He stared carefully at the road, trying not to tear up. "And I know. I know. That's why I have Steve. And I love him. I really do. It's just...it's just I love you too. I loved you first. Ever since you arrested me and gave me that wake up call from the pipe dream I was living in trying music, that's when it happened."

"Oh Ethan, I wish you'd stop referring to your violin as a pipe dream. I can't help thinking that it shouldn't have been a dream, that THAT should be your life. You're really good at it."

"I know. I just couldn't get the right sponsorship I guess," Ethan said regretfully.

"Nevertheless, the real pipe dream is us and this dream you have for me. Now more than ever. Ethan, I've met someone. Last night. It was oh so quick, but the chemistry was amazing. And that's it. I'm completed. I'm happy. Truly happy, without needing to chase off alone after some scumbag. Look at me, Ethan, look at me, and see! If you really want to make me happy, you'll let me go; let go of this fantasy once and for all!"

And so, Ethan did look over and what he saw amazed and delighted him beyond words. If he had thought his angel was bright before, now, now his beauty was just dazzling.

Justin body was relaxed and happy. His eyes were bright and his smile...WOW! His smile was on permanent million wattage. He looked like he did just before he took off on him only he was sitting still and Ethan could drink his fill of him at last. His white hair seemed to fairly glow and in Ethan's eyes he swore he could see a white aura emanating off of him. He had the contented air of one who has been well and thoroughly fucked, which Ethan knew must have been the case last night.

A host of emotions ran through Ethan. First the bad ones. Anger, jealously, envy, sadness for what he might have had but was now lost to him forever. Ethan closed his eyes and let them wash over and through him the way a cold shower washes over you if you drive a boat through a waterfall into a cool underground cave. And then overpowering and superseding them all was a happiness and love for his partner that transcended everything that had come before. He loved Justin even more like this, saw his beauty magnified beyond measure. And he knew whatever he might have had with Justin, he could have _never_ transformed Justin like this. Never. The love he felt for Justin now was one that simply wanted to see and make him happy no matter where or who he was with. And with this love came the knowing that he could not do what he was going to do. What he had promised he was going to do. He had to save him.

"Well? Ethan? What are you thinking? Can you let me go?"

By this time they were only a block from the station. Making the decision quickly, Ethan pulled over, crossing several lanes of traffic and ramming into the curb.

"Ethan! What on earth..." Justin exclaimed.

Ethan pulled Justin to him and kissed him hot, hungry and quick. Then he let him go once and for all.

"Oh Justin, yes! I can see you are happy and that happiness makes you even more beautiful than before. I love you more than ever! But with that love I can let you go now. And you have to go now! Right now! Get out of the car and run Justin! Run for your life!"

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"Ethan what are you talking about? When I said you had to let me go, I didn't mean right this second!"

"No Justin! You don't understand! You have to go! Run! Don't go to the station! Don't go home! If this lover has any contact to Stockwell, don't return there. Just run. The promotion ceremony...it's a ruse...no, well, more like a trap! You would get it but you'd have about 5 seconds to enjoy it! You see, as you are getting the promotion, Stockwell is planning a "surprise" inspection of all our lockers. Only in yours, they are going to find bags and bags of cocaine, PCP, meth, and marijuana. He's planning on having you arrested for evidence tampering and drug possession! He wants you gone! Your career destroyed! Your life ruined. And if you are there or not, the search will commence at 9:00 precisely. After that, it's only a matter of time before you become a wanted man."

"Ethan...how do you know all this?" Justin growled dangerously.

"Because I'm the one who planted the drugs there," Ethan said miserably. "Last night."  
>"Ethan! My God! You're a monster! And you claim to love me?" Justin rubbed his lips as if he had kissed a festering ghoul, "How could you betray me like this?"<p>

"Stockwell called me up last night. He forced me. He called me into his office after your press conference was over last night and gave me the stuff. He threatened to kill me. He showed me pictures. He had thugs kidnap Steve. He threatened to kill him too if I didn't agree. So I did it. But I can't lead you into this terrible trap the way you are now! I just can't! Take your badge, your gun...they are your only weapons, your only comfort now! And...here, it's $200! It's everything I have in my wallet. Take it and run! Find an ATM and withdraw as much as you can before they freeze your accounts! Hurry! Go now! Run! RUN!"

"Ethan! You've got to help me! You've got to confess this! Tell Internal Affairs! If you are truly remorseful, you've got to fix this!"

"I will...I will...But the plan is already in motion. It will take time! Until then, find a place to lay low. Trust no one! Trust no cop! There's no telling who is Stockwell's eye or ear! Now go!"

Justin shed a tear and then impulsively hugged his partner for the last time. "Thank you for doing the right thing!" he whispered. Then he furtively looked around and hopped out of the car and ran down the street.

He was at the end of the block when there was a WHUMP!; a blasting, crashing noise and a searing wave of heat. Justin looked back and his eyes widened in horror.

Ethan's car had exploded. Exploded with such force it had flipped clean over. The entire car was engulfed in flames. The fire raged in a fierce intensity. There was no way anyone could have survived.

Justin's instincts took over. He ran. Ran fast. Through alleys, twisting this way and that, doubling back, and then running deeper into the urban jungle that was Pittsburgh.

He was fucked, and not in a good, life affirming way. Ethan was dead. Without his confession, Justin would be labelled a dirty cop, drug user, drug dealer, evidence tampering asshole. His life would be ruined, career gone, everything Ethan had said and more. Justin hid behind a dumpster for a few minutes, heaving with rage and grief. He took a huge breath and swallowed his feelings and let his training take over. He ran.

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Stockwell stood at his office window looking down at the street. In his hand he held a small black box with a button on it. A long antennae protruded from it. A detonator.

In satisfaction he slid the antennae back into the box and slipped it into his pocket. If anyone saw it (which they wouldn't) they would simply think it was a pager or something.

Even if he hadn't been watching for them he would have seen that white haired freak from a mile away. As it was, he had been watching. And he'd seen him bolt, which meant Gold had fucked him over. He had to go.

He flipped open his cell phone open. He speed dialled a number. "Your payment will be in the account by the end of the day. Slit the filthy fag's throat."

He flipped his phone shut.

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As soon as he could, Justin followed Ethan's advice and found an ATM. He withdrew the maximum amount $500. He ran as fast as he could and found another and withdrew another $500. He did this again and again, draining his savings and chequing accounts as much as possible before it was too late.

However, in this case sooner was later. At 9:15 AM, on his fifth transaction, the machine emitted an unpleasant buzz, spit his card back out at him and produced a receipt that said among other nasty things: ACCOUNT FROZEN.

Justin cursed colourfully. But at least he had gotten to four machines and had gotten $2000 of his money before they closed him down. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing. And now he knew. The locker check had happened and the planted drugs found. He knew he was a wanted man.

He also knew it would only be a matter of time before there was a record of him accessing this machine. He beat feet…fast.

In the distance he could hear sirens. They grew louder.

As fast as he could, he ran deeper into the urban jungle, a wilderness as deep, dark, and unfriendly as any forest, filled with concrete canyons, dark dead ends, and human wildlife than rivalled the ferocity of any lion, tiger or bear.

TBC

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	5. Interlude: Rumplestiltskin

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

SNOWSHINE

Interlude

Rumplestiltskin

_Two weeks later..._

_Clack! Clack!_

Cynthia _slammed_ her hand down on Brian's wrist silencing those damnable beads...pearls...whatever.

"Brian! Not now!" she hissed in a desperate stage whisper.

"Take your damn...hand..off...me! Now!" he commanded in an equally soft but desperate and dangerous stage whisper.

"Is there...something wrong?" a soft and deceptively gentle Asiatic voice spoke up at the head of the conference table.

"No, Honorable Fugi-san! Not at all! However, I do request that we take a short 5 minute recess so that I may confer with my colleague in private!" Cynthia said, bowing slightly as she did so.

"Very well," came the gentle voice in permission.

"Thank you, Fugi-san. We won't be a minute. Please help yourself to Danish or more coffee or whatever you like. We won't be but a moment."

As soon as the other men and women had dispersed, Cynthia dragged Brian over to a quiet corner. Her hand was like a manacle around his wrist and Brian realized with some trepidation that he could not shake her loose. Shit! She must really be pissed! He thought.

She was. Her eyes blazed as she finally let go of his wrist in disgust.

"One hour! One hour, Brian. We are in the meeting of a lifetime here! Fugimoto Electronics is a multimillion dollar account!"

"I know that, Cynthia. I set the whole thing up, remember?" Brian drawled in that smug, shit eating way of his, that only enflamed Cynthia more.

"Then for God's sake, keep your hand still for one hour...one measly hour and then you can take days off, weeks off to do nothing but clack those stupid little beads..."

"Pearls."

"Whatever! You'll be able to clack them nonstop for as long as you want if we get this account just keep them still for one...fuckin'...hour!"

"Geez Cynthia! What's your problem!"

"What's my problem! YOU'RE my problem! THESE things are my problem! I've been listening to you clack these things around for the last two weeks and I put up with it because I'm your assistant and you pay me. But these guys are different and they barely understand English much less the fact you think these beads..."

"Pearls..."

"...are your way of knowing if your boyfriend is alive or dead. They'll think you're nuts! Hell, I only halfway believe it! They won't at all and we'll lose the account."

"I don't click them that much," Brian protested.

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me! You're like a fuckin' cat with a bell on with those things! Every few seconds! Every minute at least! I've gotten used to it but I can hear you coming a mile away now! And I'm hearing that damn clacking in my dreams now!"

"Oh, you're exaggerating," Brian said but his mind raced. Was Cynthia right? Had this become a habit? He _had_ been checking them an awful lot but it wasn't like every minute. It wasn't..._clack! clack_!

Unbidden, his wrist twitched. The pearls slid and clacked. His eyes widened and Cynthia's face blackened with rage.

"Honest, Cynthia, that time I didn't mean to!" Brian said in true contrition.

"Hand 'em over!" she held out a slender palm out, the fingers curled over in a rage induced claw.

"Hand what over?" he said densely. For a few seconds it really didn't penetrate, the bracelet was like a part of his body now. Taking it off would be like cutting off his wrist.

"Hand...'em...over, Brian! You are not going to screw this up for me! I need the extra money and time now just as much as you do, only in my case, I'll need it for the extra therapy to get that damn noise out of my head! You can have 'em back at the end of the meeting but until then hand 'em over, because if we lose this account..." she leaned close..."I WILL...KILL..YOU!"

He raised his eyebrows at her. She raised her own and made the gimme gesture. She was serious.

He handed them over.

Later, he was glad he did. Perhaps Cynthia was right. Maybe. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. The only two things he knew for sure was the tightness in his chest because he wasn't hearing the soothing clacking of the pearls telling him Snowshine was alive. The second thing was that he felt it was best to keep his left hand under the conference table as much as possible. Cynthia was right. Every few seconds, every minute at most, he felt his wrist twitch autonomically, seeking to move pearls that were no longer there, seeking to hear evidence of a lover but not love, that was lost.

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They won the account.

As soon as the Japanese magnates were out of eye and earshot, Brian had rose to his full height and width and held his own hand out. After Cynthia had given them back, he had spun on his heel and got the hell out of there, her words of apology honking in his ear as senselessly at the brass trumpet effect used in those Peanuts cartoons.

After that, he just walked. Walked without seeing, walked without caring. Time must have passed but he didn't know how much. When next he registered where he was, the sun was lower in the sky. There were trees. Benches. A stone walkway. A fountain. A park. He was in a park.

He sat on a bench. He put his head in his hands and succumbed to the crushing weight that was never off his shoulders now.

The first day had been the worst. He had gone to work and had no idea anything was wrong. The day had dragged. At last it was closing time and he'd rushed home and waited. He'd ordered Thai. He waited. He looked at the phone like it was a live thing and willed it to ring. It didn't. At ten he realized, Justin wasn't going to call or come so he ate his cold Thai. At eleven, he turned on the news to see if he could pick up any clues on when Justin would be home.

He picked up a clue all right. It was the top story on the news. Justin Taylor, dirty cop. Justin Taylor, evidence tampering, Justin Taylor, drug possession, warrant out for arrest, APB, blah blah blah… Brian switched off the bottle blonde bitch before she could finish. He didn't believe a word of it but whatever was or wasn't true, he wouldn't be back at the loft anytime soon. Brian was Stockwell's campaign manager. He was too close to him and cops in general. And after this, Brian was pretty sure he'd be under surveillance. He was very sure a few days later, after the flower delivery truck across the street from his building hadn't moved in 3 days straight.

Stockwell. The man was a complete asshole and the bane of Brian's existence. He was a clean freak, perfectionist, wouldn't swear, smoke or drink and yet remained as stupid as if his mother had done all three during his time in the womb. Brian continued to have to tell him to do the simplest things that Stockwell would then become convinced were his own idea. He wouldn't allow anyone else to do any of the three in his presence either and since Brian did all three, life became extremely…constrictive. He was a total breeder who was militantly homophobic. He had the streets crawling with cops as a new campaign to "clean the streets" but Brian wasn't stupid. He watched a steady stream of grey haired old timers parade through the building and knew they were looking for Justin as well. Then Stockwell drafted the most disgustingly fascist, homophobic, and "Stepford Wifey" campaign that he had ever seen. Gay marriage would be outlawed. Gay bars would be outlawed. Cops would be watching on the lookout for any same sex couples holding hands. Taxes would be levied against existing same sex couples and same sex couples with children. Which wouldn't happen any more since same sex couples would not be allowed to adopt in Pittsburgh. Anyone professing to be gay would not be allowed in concerts, movie theatres, restaurants, bars, pools or anywhere else fun. The only thing missing was separate drinking fountains. When Brian sarcastically pointed this out, Stockwell only answered quite seriously that it would cost too much money to build the separate ones. It became increasingly difficult not to scream. I'm Gay! A fag is running your campaign and doing a top notch job of it! and then smashing in his face.

But he couldn't quit. He was making Kinnetic too much money and besides that, Brian knew too much. Stockwell had entrusted him with a lot of confidential information, some of it illegal or just about his disgustingly clean living family that Stockwell figured had "bonded" them. Besides, Brian was a gay in the heart of enemy territory. He wanted to gather as much information as he possibly could in order to stop him. But he didn't know who to tell. When his business grew, he had grown…well not up…more like away from his friends and family and now he was disgustingly alone. He didn't even know where they were anymore, where they hung out. Except maybe Babylon and Brian was pretty sure he'd be lynched and burned at a stake if he showed his face there.

Stockwell had called the disgusting campaign Proposition 14. Of course within a few days a counter campaign had cropped up calling themselves Stop Prop 14. They rallied and held mock debates and posted their own flyers and drove Stockwell insane with rage. However they never did anything technically illegal and so could never be arrested. Their headquarters remained a mystery…to Stockwell. The man had tunnel vision and Stop Prop 14 knew this. And so they set up their HQ in an area of Pittsburgh that Stockwell avoided like the plague. It was anathema, like the darkest, scariest part of a deep forest that was haunted by the damned.

"Alms! Alms for the poor! Alms for the old and needy!"

Brian sucked in a huge breath and jerked back. The voice had cut though him and his reflections like a dentist drill. He was astonished and a little scared at how low the sun was in the sky.

A small man with a shock of unkempt white hair and a full on white beard and moustache stood before him. He wore an old green army jacket, filthy pants and was hunched over, leaning heavily on a cane. He carried a backpack. His teeth were filthy. He brandished a black baseball cap at Brian and shook it, rattling the few coins that were in it.

"Come on sonny! Come on! Help a grampa out like a good ole sonny boy!"

Something pierced Brian's heart. He took out his wallet and threw in a few fivers. "I had a son once. I used to call him Sonny boy."

"Did ja now! Did ja now! Well, isn't that sweet! What happened to him? He die?" the old man was at the same time sympathetic yet ghoulish sounding.

"No! I was a sperm donor for a couple of lesbians. I signed over my parental rights to them and they repaid me by having him circumcised. Not long after all that they broke up. The mother "married" a Frenchman and took him away from me. I expect he's in France somewhere swilling wine at 6 and speaking a language I can't understand!" A few tears leaked out of Brian's eyes before he was able to suck it up.

"There now! There now! Someone so young and handsome…and rich," The old man gave the young man the once over, taking in his Armani suit. "Should be a happy man! What's got you down?"

"I am all you say. But I hate my job, my boss is insane, and my lover is wanted by the police and is a fugitive. I haven't heard from him in weeks."

"My goodness! Sounds like you need another lover!"

"Oh, I couldn't. I love him. Besides, my lover was a cop and is a good man. I'm convinced he was betrayed or framed or...or something. I'm sure he would not have done what he is accused of." The lesbianic words dripped from his lips like water and strangely Brian didn't mind at all. He meant them all.

"Wait! You keep saying he!" The bum narrowed his eyes. "Say, you aren't one of those queer-o-sexuals are you?"

Brian huffed out a laugh. "Actually yes. I've never heard it put quite that way but yes, I'm queer!"

The old man narrowed his brilliant blue eyes even more and then glanced furtively around. Seeing nobody, he opened them wide again. They danced happily with a youthful exuberance that belied his age. "Well, why didn't ja say so Sonny boy! Welcome to the club!" He clapped Brian on the arm and sat down beside him.

"You! But you're so…"

"Old!" the old man finished for him, "That may be but that just means I've been gay a whole lot longer than you! Hee! Hee! Hee!"

"My goodness!" he continued, "Gay and loyal! That's a rare combination! Most gay guys are just into getting fucked!"

"I used to be like that. But I started to slow down even before I met my partner. Now it's him or nothing."

"Your partner? What happened to lover? And really? You haven't been with anyone else since he's been gone?"

"I guess he's both. And not anyone. He's it for me. And wherever he is, I know, I'm it for him."

"Some would call that ridiculously romantic."

"Old timer, I'd be first in line. But not any more. Now, I'd just call it the simple truth."

Something akin to tears glistened in the old man's eyes. "Well, that's jest the most bee-yoo-tiful thing, I've ever heard. And as a reward, young man, I'd like to draw you!"

"Draw me? You're an artist?"

"My boy! It's what I do now! It's how I eat and makes my way in the world, as meagre as that may be now. So it is a reward but there's also a price!"

"What kind of price?" Brian was wary.

"Crossing my palm with green for starters. The price is different for every customer." The old man pulled a sketchpad and a pencil out of his backpack. "Shall we begin?"

"OK."

The old man grasped Brian by the chin and turned him this way and that mumbling to himself the whole way. "Such a strong chin...roman nose...clear eyes, bedroom eyes!...what a beauty...what a beauty...hmmmm, a profile I think...yes, YES! That will do!" The old man cackled horribly. "OK, young man just relax and watch the fountain...watch the water...that's the way...don't move...don't move...just watch the water...that's the way..." The little man cackled again and kept up a soothing patter and Brian watched the fountain with its jets of water and its white creamy froth on top. The white tops reminded him of...a smile curved his lips.

"Yes! Yes! That's the way! Smile! Smile just like that! Hold it! Hold it! I got it! I got it! Ahhh hee hee hee hee! Now don't worry young man, I've almost got it, almost got it! Just a while longer!"

But Brian didn't mind waiting. He was going to be waiting anyway. And this way he had something to wait for.

The old man's pencil flew and less than half an hour later it stopped.

"Well there we go! What do you think, young man?" the old man cackled, turning the portrait around to show him.

"It's fantastic! It looks just like me!" Brian cried in delight.

Indeed it did. It was indeed a profile, shaded nicely. It showed him from the shoulders upward. There were trees and a fountain not unlike the one they were in. His lips curved upward in a Mona Lisa smile and his eyes were dreamy.

"What were you thinking of...to smile like that?" asked the old man.

"I was looking at the white caps in the fountain and they reminded me of my lover. He has white hair."

"Ohhhhh? You into guys with a bit of...experience?" the old man asked waggling his white eyebrows.

"OHHH! No! I mean...Well, sorry! But no, my lover is young. He had a trauma a while back and now his hair is white. I call him Snowshine."

"Why's that? And if he's young enough why doesn't he just dye his hair?"

Brian explained about the nickname. Then he said, "I don't know why he doesn't dye his hair. He says he used to be blond. I didn't know him for long but I got the feeling that he felt it defined him. As for me, I wouldn't have it any other color."

"Aww, that's sweet! Prefer brunets myself though," the old man said, giving Brian a suggestive wink.

"Uhhhh, that's cool! Anyway...how much do you want for it?"

"Well for starters, you can replace these Lincolns with a couple of Franklins. Come now, young man, I know you have them. I see your suit and you admitted yourself that you're rich. Don`t be a pinchpenny to an old grampa in need!"

"No, you're right! I can. OK, here's $200." Brian dipped into his wallet.

"Aaaannd...this!" the old man's voice took on a feral tone as he grabbed Brian's wrist in a painful grip.

As Brian reached for the money his sleeve had shifted, exposing his bracelet. The old man exposed it fully, a hungry look coming into his eyes.

"Those are pearls! Rare and black pearls! Forget the money! I'll take those as payment!"

"FUCK NO!" With difficulty, Brian pulled away and covered the bracelet with his other hand. "You can't have that! Anything but that! It's not for sale!"

"Ohhh? And why's that?"

"It's an heirloom and very old. Besides…it's the only way…the only way I know my Snowshine is still alive!" Brian felt like an idiot the minute the words were out of his mouth. It sounded so…so stupid in the light of day but Brian never thought he'd have to explain it to a total stranger.

The old man laughed his head off making Brian feel even more foolish. He scowled and kept his hand over it though.

"What is that supposed to mean? Come now, trade it to Grampa and you can have your picture, free and clear!"

"NO! You don't understand! It's special! He gave it to me! I promised I'd never remove it. Besides, he told me…" Brian explained about the magical properties of the bracelet.

The old man cackled again. "How do you know if he wasn't just making that up? He could've just made that up about them being stuck! It's just an ordinary bracelet! Give it to me!"

A terrible doubt swept over Brian. What if it was just a bracelet? What if the pearls were just ordinary? What if Snowshine had deceived him? Would it be so wrong to trade them then? The man seemed to want nothing else. No. Not for just a drawing.

"Maybe it is. But you still can't have it! He spoke words over it when he gave it to me: Guard me with his life! Even if it is a fraud I can't help but think that meant he was entwining our lives, our souls together. And he entrusted this to me! So you can't have it! I have $400! You can have $300 and leave me the last 100 for food and a cab home. I don't even know where I am right now! That's all I have! That's my final offer! Give me my picture!"

The old man looked at him shrewdly. "There is...one more thing you have!"

"And what is that?"

"You mentioned him before...you have...a SON! A firstborn son!"

"Yes. So what?"

"So...that is what you will give me. The money more my immediate needs...and you must promise me your son...to be mine if you truly are not willing to give me the pearls!"

"Or...I could just take everything back and tell you to fuck off! That's insane! You're insane! Who do you think you are? Rumplestiltskin!"

"Hee! Hee! Hee! It's been a long time! A long time! Who knows who we're descended from? Could be! Could be! Hee! Hee! Hee! But whatever my ancestors, the fact remains...I have plied my trade for you and I demand payment! I have named my price! And you want this! And trust me...you need this picture more than you know!"

"What do you mean?" Brian said suspiciously.

The old man sat down on the bench and patted the seat beside him.

"Come and sit, Brian Kinney," he said, "And I will explain."

Brian gasped. "How did you know my name?"

"I am associated with Stop Prop 14. There are few people in this city who have not seen you on TV, who do not know who you are affiliated with. Within this picture I have encoded where to find us. You can help us...help us bring down Stockwell...if you are willing. You were more right than you can possibly imagine when you said your boss was insane. And when you find us, you will find your Snowshine."

Brian gasped again and sat heavily on the bench in the dwindling twilight. "You know! You knew all this time where he is! Why didn't you say so?"

"You didn't ask," said the old man. "Besides...I had to wait until we were completely alone...and still I have to watch my words carefully. You are being watched, are you not?"

"Yes," admitted Brian, thinking of that damnable flower truck.

"So it stands to reason that somehow you have been bugged as well, in ways you may not even be aware of...so...back to business...Snowshine...or your son!"

"Why...why, you...YOU SADISTIC SHIT!" yelled Brian, probably breaking the eardrums of any potential eavesdroppers. "Are you still going to insist on that devil's trade? How am I supposed to agree to something so horrible!"

The old man shrugged. "You must," he said simply.

Brian's mind raced. And then he smiled a small but evil smile. "Fine! I agree. You may have my son. What do you want him for?"

"My reasons are my own!" shrieked the old man, "Do we have a deal!"

"I told you my son is most likely in France somewhere. I do not know where he is. If you can find him...and if you can pry him away from the "Frog Prince" who has him...you can have him."

The bargain is done! The deal is sealed!" the old man danced and shrieked insanely. "Sealed...with a kiss!" And before he could stop him the old man had grasped his neck with a soft hand and pulled him in and kissed him hard and deep. A tongue snaked out, seeking entrance. Brian struggled, panicking a bit, shuddering in revulsion, thinking the man's rotten teeth would reflect an even rottener mouth. Instead it was like spearmint. Jerking a bit in surprise he relaxed slightly and then the man was inside him and frenching him, tongue fucking him wildly and...weirdly enough, it wasn't gross. It should have been, but it wasn't. Brian groaned in pleasure and just when he was settling himself down for more, the man pulled back and it was over.

The old man leaned close to his ear and whispered and as he did puffed bits of warm air into it, sending unlikely shivers down Brian's back.

"They say a picture is worth a thousand words," he said, "In this case a thousand words may be found in this picture. IF you look hard enough! Oh and I know where your son is! And he isn't French!"

Brian's mind and body turned to stone. He was transfixed in terror, paralyzed with pain and rock-solid with regret. He had given his son over to this weirdo and now he would live with that for the rest of his life.

Numb and dumb with the horror of what he had done, Brian watched the little old man cackle in glee and hobble quickly away in the now dark park, leaning heavily on his cane. In a few minutes, he was gone. A rolled up paper lay on the bench beside him.

TBC

PLEASE REVIEW!


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

A/N: HELP! My muse was kidnapped by the Goodfellas! Well, anyways that's the only reason I can think of that explains what follows. These things happen. As Brian grows and matures he continues to go OOC. Other characters also OOC. PLEASE REVIEW and tell me how I'm doing! Thanx.

Warning: Some stronger language in this chapter that could push it up to a M/PG 18 rating but if you're familiar with the show, it's nothing you haven't heard before.

For reasons that will become clear to her, this chapter is dedicated to Predec2. I'll leave it up to her to explain.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 5

Later, at home, Brian was still distraught although he sat stoic and unseeing throughout the cab ride home, across the sidewalk, subtly checking, (yes the damnable flower truck was _still_ there) up the elevator and finally in his sliding front door.

Once inside, away from the world, away from all eyes and ears, except maybe Stockwell's (oh, good point...he turned on the stereo loud) and sat on his couch with his precious picture, poured a glass of Beam and wept bitter tears of sadness, recrimination and regret.

He had lost Justin. He had lost Gus. Again. And it was even worse now that he knew Gus was not overseas, a faceless entity but a real little boy somewhere where he could have been, should have been a part of his life, watching him grow up. All his life, Brian had lived his life with no rules, no apologies, no regrets. He hadn't given a shit. And up till now that had been OK. But now he had been in love was loved in return and a weird old man knew where his son was and in a horrible gamble he'd given him carte blanche to do what he'd like with him. He had to find Justin! He had to find Gus. He GAVE A SHIT! Maybe for the first time in his life, BRIAN KINNEY GAVE A SHIT!

As he came to that knowledge, Brian ended his tears and turned his attention to his portrait. He unrolled it and looked at it.

"_They say a picture is worth a thousand words…In this case a thousands words may be found in this picture…IF you look hard enough…"_

The old man's word's echoed back to him through his memory. Brian struggled to figure out the old man's meaning. There was a riddle in there somewhere..

_A thousands words may be found in this picture…IF you look hard enough…_

Brian peered closely at his picture. The trees. His jaw…The fountain. Everywhere.

There was nothing. It was just a picture. Just a picture. Brian brought it close to a light and scrutinized it further.

There! In the sun! He had drawn it as a round orb but if Brian looked very carefully he saw that the upper curve was not a line it was writing. In miniscule letters it said: I am safe. Around the lower curve it said: I am loved.

In one tree, among the leaves, it said: I have friends. Running up the trunk disguised among knotholes and as part of the detailing of the bark was: Gus is here...and...Gus is safe.

In another tree was: I miss you. Elsewhere in the tree was a squirrel rolling a nut. Disguised in the bush of his tail was: Together again soon.

In the fountain was: Follow the sign...and: Hope all things. In the jet of water it said: Pearls are real.

In the curve of his jawline was: I crave you.

Hidden in his stubble in cursive writing was: My love is infinite.

Written in various folds of his suit was: I love you. I miss you. Your faithfulness warms me. I am faithful. I am waiting. I am waiting for you.

Along very bottom was I am yours. Forever.

Brian straightened up, weary from looking so hard. He was elated with wonder and joy. The portrait was not just a picture. It was a secret love letter! A love letter from Snowshine! But how did that white haired old man fit into this? And what did it mean by follow the signs?

Brian looked at the portrait again and admired it and read again his favourite passages now that he knew where they were. Then he looked again and was amazed. Very tiny as it they were off in the distance there were two square placards. One was on the left made to look like a far off drive in movie theatre screen. The one on the right simply looked like a highway billboard. But both of them read the same thing. In tiny, but bold, capital letters they read LIBERTY DINER.

Oh no. No, no, no! Not there. Why oh why did it have to be there. He worked for Stockwell, the most straight laced homophobic bigot in the city if not the planet. He'd be dog meat the minute his first step hit the linoleum. There was no way in hell he could show his face there.

And yet...it was his only clue. His only clue on a wild search for his Snowshine. Oh why oh why, did that old man have to send him there? Why? Who was that old codger any...

Then all of a sudden all the clues snapped together inside Brian like a simple jigsaw puzzle. White hair and beard. Slight build. Artist. Breath that should have been fetid but wasn't. Soft hands. Soft and smooth; Brian could still feel them as they'd grabbed him round his neck. Not gnarled and wrinkled like and aged man's should have been. The messages. _I_ am safe. _I_ love you. etc.

The stereo was still pretty loud so no one else heard the great Brian Kinney give a hoarse cry of grief and elation.

_The next day..._

Liberty Diner was eternally (well from 7 AM to 7 PM and 9 on the weekends) a kaleidoscope for the senses. It was colourful, there was a constant hum and thrum of conversation, dishes banging, waitresses yelling, (well mostly one waitress in particular.) glass clinking, and bells ringing. Smells permeated the air, meat frying, onions, French fries, oil and vinegar, salt, and a hint of lemon from the never ending pyramid of lemon bars.

The bell above the door rang. A man in a dark suit and sunglasses entered. He looked a little dazed as he gazed around and went into sensory overload. He smelled all the smells and swore from them alone he immediately gained 2 pounds.

Everyone in their orange vinyl booths looked over and the entire place went dead silent. The sunglasses did nothing. Everyone knew who he was. A dull growl, leading to a dull roar began to escalate as the customers murmured their discontent and then anger.

The man tried to diffuse the situation by sliding into an empty booth. He hunched down and propped up a couple of menus on the side of the table to create a makeshift barrier. Then he did something that Brian Kinney would never usually do. He hid.

It did no good. They still knew he was there. The rising growl grew louder.

"BOOOOOO!"

"We know you're there...Kinney!" the name was spat out like someone saying 'cockroach'.

"Get out!

"Get the fuck out!" someone else yelled more stridently.

Brian hunched further down, thought of Justin, and stayed put.

"What the FUCK is going on out here!" yelled an even more strident voice. A tall woman, slightly overweight with frizzy red hair came storming out with a large tray with several orders of food on it. She slammed the tray down on the counter with a fearsome CRASH!...and then used a water glass as a gavel to bang down on the tray. All the dishes and cutlery went SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! together in an even more fearsome noise, at least twice as loud as the putting down of the tray. The woman SMASH! SMASHed!..the tray for a good half a minute until the entire diner was silent (except for her) and cowering in fear. In was clear that she was judge, jury and executioner and everybody knew it.

Finally the large waitress gave the glass a final, satisfying...CRASH! and silence reigned.

"Now! What the FUCK is wrong out here!"

"We don't want _him_ in here!"

"Yeah! We don't want _his kind _in here!

"Breeder lover!"

"Asshole!"

"Yeah, De – uh...Red! Don't you know who that is? That's Bri –"

SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! "SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE HELL CARES WHO HE IS! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK THIS IS!" the woman scream/yelled louder than Brian thought was possible, "THE FUCKIN' 1950's? HIS KIND? JESUS FUCKIN' CHRIST!" SMASH! Went the water glass just for the hell of it. Her other hand snaked under the counter and with a sloooooow scraping noise brought out...JESUS! Brian's eyes went wide. A bat. Dammit to Fuck! He was fucked! He hunched down even lower, waiting for the threats...the yelling, and the expulsion that was soon to come. Then he'd never find Snowshine. Never. And it was his own fault for being such a dick, an asshole, a fuckin' sellout. He deserved this. He hated Stockwell with every fiber of his being just then and the ironic thing was nobody in the place would ever believe it.

"We here…at the Lib – at here," the woman said in a softer but still projected, strident voice that filled the joint, "Reserve the right to refuse service to anyone causing a disturbance." She patted the bat into her hand several times as she spoke.

Brian cringed. He closed his eyes. His wrist jerked. _Clack! Clack_! The soft noise soothed him.

"And the only ones causing a disturbance are ALL YOU DUMB FUCKS! SO SHUT UP AND EAT WHAT I SERVE YOU OR I'LL THROW THE LOT OF YOU OUT AND NOT ONLY CAN THIS MAN EAT IN HERE AS IF HE OWNED THE JOINT, HE'LL EAT FOR FUCKIN' FREE! GOT IT!"

Everyone was completely cowed and trembled with terror under the woman's fierce wrath. There was dead silence.

"Good!" she said in a completely different, mother hen type of voice. The bat went back under the counter. "Now...who had the double burger with cheese and who had the pink plate specials?" Several trembling hands went up and she served them, saying things like: "You're too thin! I wanna see a clean plate!...and, "Geez honey, salt's a seasoning, not a side dish! Take it the fuck easy!...and, Take a smaller bite next time honey, we know you like to open wide but save it for Babylon, mmm-kay?" When the round tray was empty, she yelled, "Kiki, catch!" and Frisbee threw the tray toward the back of the diner. The tray whizzed expertly with deadly speed and force inches over people's heads and just at the right moment a tranny popped out of the swinging door leading to the kitchen, caught it, and backed away inside again. At last the strident woman with frizzy red hair made it over to Brian's table. She removed one of the menus and looked down at him.

"What'll you have sweetie!" she asked loudly, cracking her gum loudly. But she was already scribbling furiously. She ripped that page off and slammed it down in front of him and then held her pen over a fresh page.

Brian looked down at the sheet and read:

U MIGHT B BUGGED

U DON'T KNOW ME

NO NAMES

ORDER SOMETHING ASSHOLE!

"Um...Pink plate Special?" he ordered tentatively. "And a coffee?" he asked

"Pink...Plate...Speee—ssshil," she repeated drawing it out, writing as she went. "Cooooo-fffffff-eeeeeeeee...OK, anything else?"

"I'm hoping to meet someone," Brian said sadly, "I was told I might find him here."

The waitress let out a shrieking cackle that would put the heartiest fairy tale witch to shame.

"Aren't we all, honey! Aren't we all! Well, you came to the right place if you want to have a ball! Or maybe two!" Again, she cackled manaically at her own joke that she no doubt had made a dozen times.

"I'm afraid everyone here would rather have MY balls in a vice," he said. Ànyway..thank you..um...`he petered off, hoping for a name.

"Oh, we all go by our fairy names here! Sometimes, we choose them, sometimes they choose us," she said, "My name's Red. You know...the hair," she finished, patting it in explanation.

"Ahhhhh." he said disinterestedly.

"What's your fairy name hon?" she asked. At the same time, she slapped down the second note.

"I'm afraid I don't have one."

"Well, we'll think up something for you! We'll find something!" I'll go get your order!" she raced off to refill coffees.

The second note read:

STOCKWELL IS ENFORCING MANY ASPECTS OF PROP 14 ALREADY DID U KNOW?

THE THING YOU SEEK IS VERY CLOSE

EAT YOUR FOOD. AFTER 5 MINS FIND FAULT WITH IT. TOO COLD...TOO MUCH SALT...ANYTHING

FOLLOW FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS

Brian's eyes bugged out in surprise. The asshole was enforcing that piece of shit already?" Why was he not informed? Since when? Brian's blood boiled. No wonder they were convinced he was bugged. It was a wonder he wasn't followed but he had checked for tails regularly and changed trains 3 times on his way here. He'd done his best.

"Pink Plate Special! Here ya go, hon!" Dishes clattered onto the table. "Everything to your liking?" She pointed to the last two lines of the note and looked at him pointedly.

"For now...thanks," he said dismissively, like his usual asshole self. He pointed to DID U KNOW?...and shook his head once. Back...forth.

"All right. I'll be back with a refill in a little while. She ran off again.

A few minutes later after shoving down a few bites of the generic hash that could have been cardboard, he was so excited, he banged on the table with his knife and yelled in his best asshole voice: Hey! Who made this? Oscar the Grouch! Because it tastes like fuckin' garbage! There's way too much salt on everything! Are you TRYING to give me a heart disease! I want another one! Take it back!"

Debbie's red head popped out of the pick up window like some oversized and extremely ugly red cuckoo bird. "Sure thing hon! But it's Diner policy...if you don't like your food, you have to bring your plate back to the kitchen and pick up your new stuff yourself unless you're disabled or your legs are broke! Your legs ain't broke? Are they?" She sounded hopeful and there was a hint of a promise.

"No! No, they're not!" he yelled back, now thoroughly amused by this strange cloak and dagger game Debbie was playing.  
>"Well thennnn...Come on back!" the red bird trilled musically before popping back into the kitchen.<p>

Obediently, he picked up his plate and headed toward the back of the diner. He tried to ignore the rest of the patrons who had hatred blazing in their eyes but dared not to say anything. Then someone spit into his water glass and threw it into his face. Another one, a burly leather man with a handlebar moustache made a slashing gesture across his throat and pointed at him. The meaning was clear.

He reached the swinging kitchen door. He knocked at it tentatively.

"Come and geeeettt iiiiit!" Debbie trilled.

He entered cautiously. At first there seemed there was nothing there. Out of nowhere, he was yanked all the way through by his collar. His plate was yanked out of his grip.

He got it all right. He got that this was no game.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJJBJBJBJBJ

In a seemingly empty room, there was a flurry of activity. People jumped out of hiding from behind counters and a few out the walk in freezer. They all held some sort of weapon, knives, a meat cleaver.

Then Brian felt the butt of cold steel press against the exact center of his back. Someone had been hiding behind the door. His blood turned to ice.

"I'm holding a .38 caliber against the exact center of your back. One shot and it'll take out your spine. You'll be a paraplegic. You'll never walk again unless you do exactly what I say," said a deep cruel voice that Brian could tell was deadly serious. "Bend over the counter and hands behind your head. Make a sound and your dogmeat."

Brian complied.

The gun was moved to his neck. "And now you'd be a quad. Don't you fuckin' move!" A small but muscular body moved behind him doggy style and a forearm was placed across his neck further immobilizing him. The gun remained at his neck.

"Is this where you have your way with me?" Brian asked softly, in amusement.

"SHUT UP!" the voice shrieked in a stage whisper, a livid, slightly higher voice that was strangely familiar, "JUST...JUST SHUT UP!"

"Cut it out, Whiny!" Red's voice piped up at last as a voice of reason. "There's no need for these theatrics. Let him up!"

"No way! He might be packin'!"

There was a sharp "WHAP" as Red slapped "Whiny" across the back of the head. "Do what I say, you little asshole!"

"Owwww...geez, mawwwwwww!" Whiny whined and then complied.

"I assure you, I'm not...packin" Brian said in his most dignified voice. He rose and started to turn but was stopped by the gun again. "Don't you fuckin' turn around! Don't you look at me!" Whiny said in his deeper voice.

Despite his assurances, he was frisked thoroughly. He was amused when the frisker paid special attention to his crotch area.

"Just what do you think I'd be hiding in there?" he asked in amusement. Whiny didn't answer.

"He's clean." Whiny sounded disappointed.

Everyone backed off a bit but remained wary.

Brian stood and slowly turned to face who he already knew it to be. But he couldn't stop his eyes widening in pleasure and his mouth opening to shout his name in delight.

The gun went against his chest and a black gloved hand went over his mouth before he could. "Say my name and you're a dead man," said Michael Novotny. His eyes blazed with disgust and hate.

"All right, all right, my turn now, said a slight man with a wide mouth and a set of big beautiful teeth. He approached Brian with a paddle of some sort, the kind they pass over you at the airport to check for unwanted metal. "Keys, coins, belt, any other metal on the counter please."

Brian complied. "And who are you?"

"I'm the Exterminator. I came by to take care of an...infestation." said the man with the beautiful teeth. "Hold your arms out to the sides please. Whiny...keep him covered."

Brian complied. So did Whiny.

"You know, I`m really getting tired of that handle!" Whiny whined.

Everybody in the room smirked and/or tried not to giggle. Michael fumed.

Starting at the top of his head, the Exterminator, passed the sensor over his body slowly. At his collar there was a BEEP!

"What the fuck!" wondered Brian.

The Exterminator found what looked like a straight pin stuck through the underside of the back of the collar of his shirt.

He scanned the collar of his blazer. BEEP! There was one stuck in the collar of his blazer.

Over the shoulder. Down each arm.

BEEP! There was something that looked like a cufflink that was not a cufflink on the underside of the wrist on his left hand.

He scanned down the back. Clean.

He scanned down the front. BEEP! There was a straight pin bug stuck in his shirt and through the third button down.

BEEP! There was an extra button on his blazer…a flat metallic lens of a button.

BEEP! In the front of the waist of his pants.

BEEP! In the back of the waist of his pants.

BEEP! His crotch.

"Oh come on!" Brian yelled in disgust.

"Sorry," said the Exterminator, not sounding sorry at all. He bent down in front of Brian and undid his pants and unzipped his fly. He carefully scanned the area again and found it…tucked discretely on the inside of the pants under the zipper.

"Hey, don't enjoy your work too much!" snarled Brian.

The Exterminator looked up and batted a pair of baby blues (not as blue as Snowshine's though) up at him. "Too late!" he said impishly.

"D'ooohhhhh!" fumed Brian.

Slowly and surely, the man ran down Brian's body with the paddle and found:

One on the waistband of his underwear.

One on the left leg near the ankle on the inseam.

One in the fold of the ankle on the right leg.

One jammed into the rubber of the sole of his right shoe.

Brian was numb and agog with astonishment. How the HELL had all this stuff gotten on his clothes? What was on his other suits?

"Look...I swear, I –"

There was a fearsome click as Michael cocked his gun. He put a leathered finger to his lips and shook his head once…back…forth.

"Well Red, will you do the honors?" asked the Exterminator, handing her all the devices.

"My pleasure sweetie!" said Red. She took a dishtowel, dumped all the bugs onto it and then folded the dishtowel in half over top of them. Then, humming an idle tune, she pulled out a meat tenderizer from a drawer and WHAM! BASH! SLAM!…hammered those wicked little devices into bits. Then she shook the towel into the garbage and they all cheered to see those bits of metal mincemeat clink and tinkle their way into the trash where they belonged.

"I swear….I didn't know those were there," Brian tried again.

"We know you didn't, sweetie but we did. We just didn't know there'd be so many of them. Maybe now you understand what we're up against. What YOU'RE up against. Maybe now you'll understand how evil Stockwell really is," said Red.

"Don't you think I know! My God, I hate him! I hate him even more for this! I mean I knew I was under surveillance but this...this is ridiculous! Who knows what is all over my other clothes?"

"No problem," said the Exterminator, "Anytime you come here, I'll wipe you clean. And now that you are, I can tell you, my real name's Blake."

"Nice to meet you," said Brian politely.

"Well...Now that we're done with the love-in...maybe we can get on with it!" Michael's voice cut across sarcastically, re-elevating the mood in the room from starting to relax to tense again.

"Mikey, what happened to you?" Brian asked. "Why are you so...so angry with me?" He reached out.

Michael point the gun straight out. "Stay back! Just...stay the FUCK away from me!" he screamed. He was on the edge.

"OK, OK!" Brian backed off. "Jesus, Mikey, what happened to you?"

"None of your Fuckin' business, that's what happened! I still don't trust you! Who's to say you really hate Stockwell! If you hate him so much, why are you still working for him?"

"Because he's making me as much money as I'd normally make in a year," Brian answered reasonably, "And he wouldn't let me quit anyway. I'm at his right hand almost constantly, his most trusted man. He's told me all this private junk and dirty secrets! He'd have me killed off rather than fire me at this point."

Oh yeah? Like what?"

"I –I can't tell you," Brian said miserably.

Oh! You can't? Or won't?" Mikey pounced, grabbing Brian's arm and twisting it behind him. His other arm went around Brian's windpipe. Brian was amused. Mikey was wearing an elegant black suit with black shirt and black silk tie and skin tight back gloves and looked every bit the Mafioso. However, he was a little less amused when he struggled and found he couldn't break free. The smaller man was all ropy muscle under there and deceptively strong.

"C'mon Mikey, leggo! Leggo!" Brian struggled but it was not use. "Wow, you been working out?" he asked, changing tactics.

"Yeah! And taking 3 kinds of martial arts! So stop struggling or I'll snap your neck and you'll be dead before you hit the floor!"

"All right, Mike, I think he gets it! You hate him! Nobody's killing anyone here. You're not getting blood all over my clean kitchen floor...Again!"

"Deb!" cried Brian, aghast. "What the FUCK happened to you all!"

"Ah – ah- ah! Better to stick to code names, Bri. It'll help to become used to it so you can use them easily in an emergency like a little while ago. As to what's happened, Stockwell happened. Prop 14 happened. Six years happened, Brian. Where the FUCK were you? A lot's happened with all of us! Sometime's life's like a soap opera. Miss a day, you miss a lot! And you've missed many a day, Brian Kinney!"

"Come on, Whiny! Time to take him downstairs to meet Him."

"Him? Him who?"

"Move! And shut...the...FUCK...up!" Whiny whispered in fury.

"Awwww, that's my little enforcer! You're so cute!" Red gushed, pinching his cheek.

"Awwwwww...Maaaaaaaaaaa! Cut it out!" Whiny whined.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Whiny let him go but kept the gun on him. They guided him to the back of the kitchen and around a corner. At the end of a short hall there was a door with a faceplate on it: OUT OF ORDER. At this point, Red opted to go back and continue serving and deflect anyone coming into the diner looking for Brian. Blake and Michael continued on with Brian.

The OUT OF ORDER door led to a steep staircase.

"How can a staircase be out of order?" Brian asked.

"If I shove you down them, then YOU'LL be out of order! Now shut up and get down there!" Whiny growled.

Brian obeyed. "Mikey, please! Why are you so angry? Talk to me!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Brian obeyed.

At the bottom of the stairs was a dingy storage space filled with boxes of supplies, a freezer, books, picture frames, ratty clothes, toys, broken appliances, wire hangers, old ornaments, some broken. Against one wall was a tall ratty looking wardrobe. The whole thing looked like a dumpster had puked.

Brian was led to the wardrobe. Here Whiny stopped him. He whispered into Brian's ear furiously, his hot breath puffing against it in an almost intimate way, bringing flashes of memory to his mind and tears to his eyes.

"What you are about to see next...is extremely secret. If you..._ever_...breathe a word to anyone...especially _Him_...I will find out! I will hunt you down like a dog, wait till you are asleep, wake you up and watch your eyes widen in realisation before I shoot you between them! Do you understand!"

"Michael! Is that necessary?" cried Blake in distress.

"Shut up! I can do you too, right here!" Michael yelled, swinging the gun around.

Blake held up his hands and acquiesced.

Michael turned back to Brian who was now trying his best not to shake in his shoes. " He couldn't understand what had happened but Michael was completely unstable. "Do...you...understand!" he repeated, with the gun point against the bottom of Brian's chin.

"Yes. I understand," said Brian. What else was there to say?

Michael opened the wardrobe and pushed aside some heavy fur coats that were inside. On the back wall there were 4 hooks. Michael took hold of the far left one and twisted it to the left and the to the right. Thunk! It popped out a few inches.

He took hold of the far right hook. He twisted this one four times around to the right. Thunk! It popped out.

He took hold of the second hook. He twisted it four times to the right, four times to the left. Thunk!

Brian was watching curiously. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up!" yelled Michael. "Does this _interes_t you Brian? Does this _fassssss-inate_ you? Can't wait to memorize this and run back to Stockwell like a good little lapdog! HUH! IS THAT IT! Shut up! Hey, YOU!" he yelled to Blake, "Stop being a sack of NOTHING and stifle him! I changed my mind! I don't trust him! He doesn't need to see everything here!"

"I'm afraid he's right, Brian." Blake stepped up to him and put his hand over his eyes. "If you don't know, you can't tell. Plausible deniability."

When Michael was satisfied that Brian couldn't see, he took hold of the third hook and twisted it left, right, twice all the way to the left and four times to the right. Thunk!

There was a click.

Michael pushed the back of the wardrobe and the entire back of the wardrobe swung inwards like a door.

"Move!" snarled Michael, pushing him through. They all followed and when they were through, Blake arranged the coats closed and pushed the secret door closed until there was a "click and four muffled thunks that Brian could only assume were the hooks popping back into place.

A long rectangular basement room stretched out before them. There were lots of people at long tables and individual desks. Some were answering phones, some were stuffing letters, some were earnestly talking. There were more than a few computers up and running. At the end of the room there was a line of those portable walls set up, the kind that cubicles are made out of. The center one was movable and slid to the side.

It was too this area that Michael shoved Brian, still holding his arm behind his back in a vice grip. He knocked on the sliding door.

"We brought him!" Michael barked.

"Come on in!" said a deep yet pleasant voice.

Michael slid open the door and shoved Brian through. The makeshift office was rather dark. There was one overhead lightbulb lit and a lamp on a large but simple desk but it was switched off. The man sitting at the desk was shrouded in darkness.

"Is he clean?" the deep voiced man asked.

"Yes. But he was bugged with devices all over his clothes. I had to be very careful but I was very thorough," said Blake.

"Thank-you Blake. All right boys, you may go. Mr Kinney and I are going to chat in private."

"Uh, Boss! Are you sure that's wise? What if he tries to make a break for it? Maybe I'd better stay and…keep him covered!"

"Thank you Michael! But that won't be necessary! Mr. Kinney is not a threat to me."

"But…"

"Thank you Michael! You've done an excellent job! I want you to help Vixen with whatever she's working on. Now go!" The voice was pleasant but final, filled with a powerful authority that Brian recognized as one that he had used on some of his employees at Kinnetic. It was not to be questioned, only obeyed. Brian shivered a little at the thought that he might be on the receiving end of the faceless man's tone some time. Some time soon.

Michael grumbled his disp/leasure but obeyed. He slid the door shut and left them alone. Brian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. It was good not to be a gunpoint anymore.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Kinney," said the man with the deep voice.

The only other furniture in the place was a straight-backed chair in front of the desk right above the overhead bulb. Brian sat.

There was a pause.

"So, what now?" asked Brian

"Why are you here, Mr. Kinney?" asked the mystery man.

"I am looking for the man who drew this," said Brian, taking out his portrait that was folded into squares and tucked inside his breast pocket. It contained a clue to come to Liberty Diner. So I came. I was brought to you."

"You have proven yourself to be clever and wise to have figured it out so quickly," said the mystery man. "The man you seek is indeed….very close."

"Justin! Justin's here! Where? Tell me where! "If you've hurt him, I swear I'll…"

"Calm yourself!" The voice never rose but the deep voice's quiet authority silenced Brian instantly. "Calm yourself, Mr. Kinney. The man you seek is perfectly happy and comfortable. He is not our prisoner."

"Unlike me?" Brian asked, not without a trace of bitterness.

"Whether you remain here as our prisoner is entirely up to you," the man said sending a fresh batch of shivers down Brian's back. "Do you even know where you are, Mr. Kinney?"

"No. Well, yes. Sort of. I think."

"Which is it?" the deep voice sounded amused.

"Well, I assume we're underground. The basement of the Liberty Diner I guess. There was a secret door. And then…here. But what are you doing here? There's so much activity!"

"There is indeed. This is the main Headquarters for Stop Prop 14. Oh there are many cells and branches throughout the city but this is the first one and the main HQ. This is the heart. We are indeed under the Liberty Diner. It is the front, a disguise to hide the entrance to here. And of course it remains a haven for homosexuals who YOU are persecuting, Brian Kinney!"

"What! NO! I'm not! I mean, I'm working for… But I…"

"You are helping our greatest enemy become mayor! You have stood by and watched him force Deakins out of the race so that he now runs unopposed! You hold all the vital information and secrets that could bring him down! And yet you've done nothing. You helped write Propos…"

"Hold it right there! No way! I've done a lot of shit in my time but I never helped him with that! All else you say is true. But he came up with that bullshit all on his own! I was disgusted and wanted to puke! I asked him why not just build separate water fountains! And you know what he said? It would cost too much money! The man's a complete fucktard!"

There was a deadly silence.

Then: "I believe you Brian. I will inform everyone. I believe this may alter my people's opinion of you…slightly. But you still have much to answer for! Why don't you bring him down with your knowledge? Imagine if he becomes mayor! All of us will be forced underground like this, everywhere! Maybe not quite so literally, but we'll all have to go back into the closet and in hiding. You yourself will be forced into a mold that is…not Brian Kinney! Why don't you tell someone what you know?"

"Who can I tell? He's King of the cops! All I have is verbal knowledge, nothing documented. Internal Affairs would listen to him over me and he'd lie like a carpet! As you said, he's forced Deakins out with blackmail so there s no opposition to tell. Sure, I could tell the Press! And I'd be dead the next morning! He'd know! These are things he's only told me! Don't you see? He's bound me to him with all this baggage and there's nothing I can do! And as for my job well, that's all it is, my job! I don't like helping him! And now I'm trapped! My fellow gays hate me. There's nowhere to turn! I'm all alone!"

"You are not alone, Brian. There is one place to turn. You can tell me what you know. You can tell us."

"Same difference. He'd know. He'd have me killed"

"No. We kidnapped you. We interrogated and tortured you and you broke. And then, when things continue to come out after we've sent you away, perhaps we had you bugged. Why not? He did."

"But you never tortured me. Or bugged me. Did you? Are you going to? Torture me that is! Oh, please don't!"

"Of course not, Brian. But _He_ doesn't need to know that!"

"Ohhhhh. I gotcha."

"So come now, Brian. Tell me."

"No! First, tell me who you are!"

"You know who I am, Brian."

"Well, I know you are the Leader around here. What's your name, I guess I mean?"

"You know my name."

"What? No I don't! Who are you!"

"We all go by code names around here. I have a select group of trusted advisors, three of which you have already met and know their names. You will meet the others soon, and you know them as well. And you know my name, Brian. After all, you are the one who gave it to me." The pitch of his voice had altered somewhat. It sounded familiar.

Brian squinted his eyes suspiciously. "Come into the light," he requested softly.

There was a deep sigh. The chair scraped back. The shrouded man stepped around the desk. He stepped forward.

His shoes came first. Elegant black loafers. Next, black pants, black shirt, black tie, coat, almost identical to Michael's but somehow this man pulled it off with more style and elegance.

His face finally came into view. Brian gasped.

His hair was elegant, thick and perfectly coiffed into a handsome part to the right. He had a beard that had been trimmed into a small, elegant and pointed goatee.

But it was the colors that gave him away. His skin was white, stark against the black suit as his blood red lips were stark against his skin. His eyes were the bluest of blue and his hair was the color of freshly fallen snow.

Before he knew he had even moved Brian found that he had leapt up out of the chair and had taken the man into his arms. He covered him with kissed and then moved in to consume those pert lips with his own in a deep, all-consuming killer kiss.

"SNOWSHINE! I missed you so much! OH SNOWSHINE!"

But Snowshine could not answer, could not return the sentiment because for a long time after that there was nothing but kissing, kissing and more kissing.

TBC

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	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

A/N: OK a short chapter this time…Sorry folks, turned into a bit of a gap filler and I just wanted to leave you guys with something after a bit of a break. Also I was going to start it off with a bit of a …the morning after kind of thing but decided that would be too big of a gyp for you guys and gals who have been reading through a few sex-less faerie tales now. Therefore I believe the following should push it officially up to a M/PG 18 rating but again… For those of you 18 and under, if you're familiar with the show, it's nothing you haven't seen already. Enjoy! PLEASE REVIEW!

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 6

Eventually, Brian came up for air. But it was only to trail kisses down Justin's face and neck and then latch onto his pulse point where he licked and sucked. Instinctively, Justin pressed forward and mashed their crotches together. He was otherwise incapacitated with pleasure.

Brian was gloriously hard. He had been within about 10 seconds of seeing Snowshine. And reaching down, he could feel Snowshine's long, hard length as well. Justin groaned wantonly. The sound only enflamed Brian more, kissing him, sucking him even harder and then found the zipper and unzipped his pants. He reached in and pulled out Justin's cock and stroked it slowly. Justin grabbed Brian's face and mashed their lips together in order to keep from crying out.

Then his pants button went next and suddenly Justin found his elegant black pants pooling around his ankles. Brian knelt an it one quick move he had yanked Justin's underwear down so that it joined his pants and he was eye level with Justin's glorious cock once more.

He stroked it reverently and admired the jewel of pre-cum before flicking it away. "I only had this for one night but I dreamed of it, longed for it every night since." Brian whispered.

"I meant what I said in the picture! It's yours! Only yours from now on. I let no one else have it! There is no one else!" Snowshine gasped back, "Or did you find that?"

"I saw... I am faithful...and I am yours...Forever," gasped Brian. "I can tell you to both things...Ditto!" And then he could wait no longer. He engulfed Justin's cock in one swallow.

Justin jammed his knuckles into his mouth and turned a scream of pleasure into a soft groan. He was mindful of the fact that they were a cubicle wall away from an audience.

"Go ahead! Let loose! I _want_ them to hear!" Brian growled in a fit of passion. He reached under Snowshine's black shirt and chestplayed him hard. Snowshine gasped again but was quiet. He backed up against his desk and scrabbled for his buttons, tearing them open one by one to give Brian better access. And what Justin gave, Brian greedily took. He sucked him harder and faster. Justin's head fell back in pleasure. He moaned in pleasure but still softly.

Brian leaned forward and snaked an arm around Justin's back guiding him, dipping him deeper until Justin lay back on the top of his desk. Brian deep throated him a few times. Justin thrashed his head back and forth a few times

""Oh Brian! Brian! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" he chanted softly to keep from screaming his orgasm as he shot stream after stream of ropy cum down Brian's willing mouth. Brian moaned in pleasure and his sucked and swallowed Justin dry. Then he moved upward and captured Justin's mouth again kissing him, holding the back of his head and letting him taste himself on his tongue.

When they broke apart, many minutes later, Justin framed his face and kissed him softly and said, "For fourteen days and fourteen nights, I have been without you and now Brian, I want, nay...need you inside me! But if we continue with this, we need to be quiet! No screaming, no overt yelling or moaning or crying out. OK?"

"But why?" Brian asked, still heady from the taste of Snowshine's lips and cum, "Are you in the closet here?"

"Brian!" Snowshine admonished as if to say, "Really?" "Liberty Diner, remember? Debbie...I couldn't be in the closet here if I tried. But there is a very good reason that I don't want to say just yet as it will kill the mood. I'll tell you after. Trust me. Do you trust me Brian? Completely?"

"I trust you. I'm a little wary of Michael. Whatever happened to him has made him so...angry...and trigger happy!"

"Michael has been through a lot and is very volatile. But it's mostly bravado as is the gun. In truth, he is loathe to shoot it and only does when it's absolutely necessary."

"He hates me though. But he'll listen to you. Promise me your protection and I'll trust you completely."

"No harm shall come to you while you are with me," Justin said serenely, "I swear it."

"Then I shall trust you and be quiet. Pity...I was planning on ramming you over your desk!" He smiled lustily.

"I have a better idea," Snowshine said, mashing their lips together and demanding, then forcing entrance into Brian's mouth. Brian made a quiet mmmph?...sound and his eyes went wide and then fluttered shut but otherwise he stayed quiet. He was unbelievably turned on. He was usually the dominant one in the relationship and this new powerful, take control, persona of Snowshine's was a total aphrodisiac.

Justin backed Brian up to the straight backed chair and sat Brian down in it again.

"Protection?" he asked.

Brian fished around in a pocket and found a condom and a small vial of lube.

"Let me guess…you never leave home without it?" Justin said with a smirk of his own. He kicked off his pants and underwear. Slowly, he approached the chair and knelt in front of Brian. He unbuttoned his pants.

"Say, isn't that from a commercial?" Brian asked.

Justin pulled down his pants in a hard yank, mimicking what he had done. Brian's pants pooled around his ankles.

Justin sat on his lap, facing him and took the condom. He tore it open with his teeth.

"You're the Ad Man. You tell me." He pressed them together chest to chest and wrapped his arms around Brian's neck and kissed him soft and sweet this time, deep, deeper, deepest-ening the kiss. His tongue was soft and big and if filled Brian's mouth perfectly, slowly and thoroughly tongue fucking him until Brian wanted to beg for mercy. But he was Brian Fucking Kjinney and he didn't do begging so instead he settled for a low, quiet moaning in the back of his throat. He was so hard it hurt. It throbbed and quested as if it had a mind of its own, trying to find the sweet spot that was deep in Justin's ass.

As Justin kissed him, he withdrew the condom and began to stroke Brian's gloriously hard cock. As he stroked, he rolled on the condom. Brian groaned quietly at the amazing sensations. They came up for air. Justin lubed them both up. Button by slow button he unbuttoned Brian's shirt. He reached under and found Brian's nips and stroked them experimentally. Brian whimpered.

He pulled them and Brian clamped his mouth shut to keep from crying out.

He pulled and twisted them and Brian mashed their mouths together in a frenzy to keep from screaming. And as he did, Justin lifted himself off ad in one move impaled himself on Brian's cock.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhh God! Oh Snowshine! Oh, you're so tight! Oh God! You feel so good!" Brian said against his ear in lieu of screaming in ecstasy.

"And you feel so good with in me! This is mine! Only mine now! Say it!" Justin demanded moving up and down.

"Ohhh yes! Ohh yes! Only yours! Now and always!" Brian promised.

"Very good! Now….tell me everything you know about Stockwell!"

"Wha…What? Now!" Brian was unbelievably conflicted. He DID NOT want to think about Stockwell's ugly face or soul, not while Justin was slowly riding him, causing unbelievable sensations to shoot through the very fiber of his being.

Justin chestplayed him hard, gently riding him, riding him. "When you go back to him, you need to tell him we tortured you, interrogated you without mercy. It's important you believe what you are saying."

"Ohhhhh…..no offence….ohhh….But this doesn't exactly feel like…..mmmmmmmm…..torture, Snowshine!"

Justin smiled evilly. "Promise to tell me everything you know," he said, moving a little faster, " Or I get up and stop everything I'm doing, right now!"

"Oh God! Oh God, No! I'll tawk! I'll sing like a canary! I'll squeal! I promise! For the love of God, don't…oh…oh….oh….don't stop!"

"I knew you'd see it my way!" Justin said, with a wink and rocked faster and faster. And Brian pushed in tandem with him. He shifted and Justin gasped and Brian knew he had hit his prostate. He pushed again and Justin came down and hit it again. Justin mashed their mouths together to keep them both from crying out. Faster and faster, Justin rode Brian's cock like a racehorse and the finish line they rode to was such ecstasy they both nearly passed out. They came at the same time, Justin coating Brian's chest with 9 streams of ropy cum and Brian coming inside Justin and then collapsing back against the hard back of the chair, heaving in exertion and pleasure.

"Rest and stay there." Justin lifted slowly up and off Brian and went to his desk and got a box of Kleenex. He brought it over and cleaned Brian and himself up using a lot of them. He wrapped the used condom in one for disposal. At last, Brian was…mostly clean and Justin snuggled sidesaddle on Brian's lap.

"So now…now can you tell me what the big deal was? The big emergency. Why did we have to be so quiet?" asked Brian.

"Oh that. Yes I can tell you now. It wasn't an emergency exactly, more like an issue of propriety. You see, your son may have been in the main room outside and I didn't want him to hear."

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

"WHAT! JUSTIN, WHAT THE FU-UUHHMMMMPPPH!" Brian managed to yell before Justin clapped a hand over his mouth again and cut him off.

"Shhhhhhh...Not really alone, remember? Now, yes Gus is here. You will meet him soon. But he may be out there so no profanity in front of your child, OK?"

Brian nodded and Justin removed his hand.

"God, Justin, how could you let me go on like that? Didn't you think I'd want to see him right away? And if he's been out there the whole...THE WHOLE TIME! Oh God!" Brian stage whispered furiously and then buried his face into his hands.

Justin calmly got up and went over to his desk and proceeded to pull his pants back on.

"Calm yourself Brian. I waited for just this reason. I told you it would be a mood killer. And I said he MAY have. There's a room off to one side that we had made up into a playroom for all the children of the workers and volunteers. He spends a lot of time there and if he was there, there would be no problem. However, he is old enough...just...to understand what we are up against and sometimes he helps with small tasks in the main room. Nothing heavy, just gofering, folding flyers, stuffing envelopes and the like. So you never know...and we need to be careful...until we do."

Brian's face grew blotchy and his fist curved into talons. "You...you make my son work!" he strangled out in fury. He advanced on Justin for the kill.

Justin was unconcerned. He opened his arms and welcomed Brian in, taking his furious hands in his own and kissed them before placing them around his neck, accurately guessing that Brian would not be able to squeeze. "Calm yourself, Brian. No one _makes_ him work. He _wants_ to work and when he gets bored and wants to stop, he does. And I said, it's only message carrying and light office work. Nothing he can't handle. I promise."

"He wants to? Are you sure?" Brian began to relax and Justin smiled and moved his hands up and around the back of his head and returned the gesture.

"Of course. Brian really! He's six! Do you really think I'd pimp out your boy like we were in some sort of sweat shop?"

"After what I've seen today, I'm not sure of anything anymore!"  
>Justin laughed that musical laugh that had haunted Brian's dreams for a fortnight. "Oh Brian! How silly you are! I would never. Wait till you meet him..."He's an amazing little boy. Just like his father."<p>

When can I meet him? Let's go right now!"

"Of course, my love. But first..."

"First? First what?"

"First you may want to put your pants back on."

When Brian had got up in anger, he had stepped out of his pants without even feeling it. He looked down. He was completely nude from the waist down.

Brian blushed.

TBC

PLEASE REVIEW!


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

A/N: This story continues to be an incredible adventure. I have no idea where I'm going with this.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 7

A short time later, the two men emerged, fully clothed, and as handsome and dapper as ever. They held each other around each other's waists as they walked and smiled in a relaxed, sated, and rather sappy way. But they couldn't help it.

Now that he was a bit more relaxed and didn't have a gun jammed into the back of his neck, Brian was able to take a better look at his surrounding and see where he was.

The place he was in was larger and rectangular. It was rather dark but it was clean. There were no windows. The walls were grey cinder blocks. The floor was stone and rather uneven but it was clean. He didn't notice it before but he saw two doors leading off to side rooms on each side. There were no overhead lights. Instead, a series of halogen lamps had been set up throughout. They were plugged into extension cords that hung down from the ceiling that were plugged into...where? Brian guessed they must be plugged into somewhere that led to the Liberty Diner. Their electric bill must be enormous, thought Brian. As well, everyone had a small lamp on their desk if needed.

Justin led the way over to a desk where a blond, long haired woman in a black, leather, skin tight cat suit and thigh high black boots in heels, was bent over her desk, writing something.

"Hey Vixen," Justin called, "Is Double G around?"

"Playroom," she said shortly without looking up.

Both men let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Hey, I want to introduce you to Bri –"

"I'm aware of who he is," said the woman, "I was here when Whiny brought him in and I didn't care then and I don't care now. You should have let him but a bullet in him!"

"Vixen! Really! Was that necessary? After all, he is..."

"I know _exactly_ who he is, Snowshine. After all, I was there, remember?" The woman finally looked up, pulled her hair back away from her face and stood up.

Brian gasped. "Lindsay! Oh my God! You look so...so..."

"Don't hurt yourself trying to think of the word! Well! Well! Well! Brian Fucking Kinney! You're a sight to make my eyes sore!"

"Isn't that...You're a sight for sore eyes?" asked Brian hopefully.

"No," said Lindsay flatly.

"Oh. Well, I was going to say...amazing, by the way. Why are you wearing that?"

"It cuts down on wind resistance," she replied.

At his blank, puzzled stare, she looked at Snowshine who gave a small nod, and an amused smile.

With a bored sigh, Lindsay (Vixen) wrapped her hair in a bun and fixed in place with what looked like two long thin, silver hair pins. She strode to the end of the room. Then she quickly back-flipped her way down the center aisle back toward them ending in a complicated move involving a twist and landed right in front of Brian. She grabbed Brian's forearm and in an even more complicated martial art move twisted him around and down until he was bent backward and immobilised in her arms. She bent her head and reached up and pulled the hair pins which turned out to be very thin, very sharp stiletto blades. She held one to his throat.

"Poke, slash...you're dead!" she said.

"All right, Vixen, I think he gets it. Let him up," said Snowshine.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

It was a few minutes later.

Brian and Justin were sitting by themselves. Brian's color was starting to come back but the trembling wouldn't really stop. He couldn't stop the glass of water he was holding from shaking. He took another sip but he wished it was Jim Beam.

"Don't worry, Brian. We'll have you back and drinking Jim Beam in no time," Justin said, accurately reading his mind.

"Why! What on Earth happened to everybody? Does everybody in this room want to kill me!"

"Oh Brian! On no! No, no, no, no! Well...yes. Probably. But that's because they don't know you the way I do. And you ARE Stockwell's right hand man. The man's pure evil, Brian, a murderer, a blackmailer, and one who desires to rule over us and subjugate us like a dark and wicked King of old. And so they assume you are just as wicked and a traitor too, since most of these people know you are gay as well. But Lindsay just wanted to show off what she could do. She doesn't really want you dead!"

"Oh yes I do!" she yelled out from somewhere.

There was a pause.

"Ahem! Yes...well! Ahh, well are you ready to meet your son?"

"I don't know...Does _he _want to kill me too?" Brian asked sarcastically.

Justin chuckled. "Oh, Brian, of course not! He's only six! Besides, we keep him away from the TV when the News is on. Mostly... I think."

Brian gulped.

Justin led him over to one of the doors and they went through. The change was radical. Happy screams and yelling of children were deafening. The room was huge, like a huge warehouse basement. There was linoleum on the floor and long fluorescents hanging from the ceiling There was an open space to run around in, a large blackboard, an art area, a piano, balls, blocks, dolls and stuffed animals and all manner of other toys all over the place. There was a jungle gym. The whole place was bright and colourful and noisy. Kids from 5-13 ran around and milled everywhere. There was an adult watching over everything but otherwise not interfering.

We busted into the warehouse next door and soundproofed everything," Justin said, accurately reading Brian's astonishment. "They do not know we are here. There is an adult supervisor at all times. We take shifts."

He took a whistle out of his pocket and blew a quick blast. The children all quieted at once and turned toward him.

"Hello, Mr. Snowshine!" they all chorused.

"Hello everybody! Is everybody having a good time?"

"Yes, Mr. Snowshine!"

"Excellent! I am looking for Double G! Is he here!"

"I'm here! I'm here!" piped a voice in the crowd and a little hand attached to a little arm reached out and waved itself in the middle of it.

"Come to me, Double G, I would like to have a discussion with you!"

The little boy began to fight his way through the crowd as there was a loud, collective UHHHH OHHHHHH!...from the other children.

"Pleasant discussion," Justin amended.

There was a loud BOOOOOO!...from the other children and they all began to disperse.

At last, Gus reached the front of the collective and came into view. Brian gasped. Then he smiled and tucked his lips in to keep the good feelings from bubbling to the surface.

The boy approached them shyly and stood before them submissively with his arms behind his back. He toed the ground shyly and nervously and looked up at them and smiled when he saw there was only kindness in their eyes. He looked at Brian and tucked his lips over his teeth in an identical fashion in shyness and pleasure that the strange man saw that he was good little boy.

"You look like me," he said prettily.

"Yes," Brian said simply. "And you look like me." He wanted to say...so much more but he didn't want to scare the boy first thing.

Gus was a typical sized six year old which to Brian meant he looked extraordinarily small. So very, very small but this may have been because he was so much bigger than everyone else that he just looked that way. What was even more extraordinary was the fact that Gus was a pint sized version of himself. Gus had short, messy brown hair, a roundish head that was Brian's exactly and a pert nose. His eyes were a brilliant green. His teeth were even and perfect. He tucked his lips over them when he was nervous or especially pleased which he was both right now.

"Double G, I would like you to come with us out into a quiet place so we can have a talk. I want you to meet this gentleman."

"Yes, Mr. Snowshine," said Gus.

"Wow, you sure have them trained," Brian said.

"Postive re-inforcement only. Every time they obey or answer correctly they are praised and/or given a treat. If they were to sass back or act out they are made to sit out for a while and no treat is given. When the collective was large enough, the newbies were given one free pass but if they disobeyed after that, the entire group would be deprived of a treat. After a while they learned to self govern themselves. Now, there's an odd little hiccup once in a while but for the most part they are completely obedient not because they have to be but because they want to be. Isn't that right, Gus?" he asked ruffling his hair.

"Oh yes, Mr. Sunshine!" Gus said in adoration. He was clearly in love with the white-haired man and acted like he was in a privileged position to have the attention and time of this important man.

"Then come along," Snowshine said, as he held his hand. Gus took it eagerly and they went out into the workroom once more. They went along the side and went into the second door on that side. The room inside this room was long and large but not as large as the playroom. Another storeroom. A conference table had been set up in here. There were 8 seats, 4 on each side.

"Vix...Lindsay! Would you join us please? This concerns you too," Justin called gently.

Lindsay sighed hugely as if this were a HUGE imposition and her shoulders sagged and her whole being seemed to scream in depression as if to say: At last! The day I have dreaded, the day of my Doom, has come at last! But she scraped her chair back and marched over there grimly in accordance with Snowshine's wishes.

They all went into the conference room and shut the door. Lindsay and Gus sat on one side of the table and Justin and Brian sat on the other side. Justin took Brian's hand and held it in a show of affection and possession.

"Even before I came to you, this man became very special to me. He has shown that he has a deep desire to know his son. That is one of the reasons that I led him here. To meet him."

"NO!" Lindsay cried, "I will not allow it! Oh, Justin, why did you have to fall for THIS man! This is Brian Kinney! The man who is helping our enemy to destroy his own kind! He doesn't do boyfriends! He doesn't believe in love! He just uses men as tricks and throws them away and he'll do the same to you! The minute he gets out of here, he'll lead the authorities here and you'll never see him again! He doesn't want you! Not like you want him! And he certainly doesn't want his son!"

"That's not true!" Brian cut in. "Granted, that used to be true. But not anymore! Not for a long time! Ever since I started Kinnetic three years ago, I stopped the frantic tricking. And for 5 years, ever since you left for France, every single day I regret not doing something to stop you. But you kept saying it wasn't my responsibility, wasn't my right and God help me!...I let you convince me. I thought you were still there! What happened?"

"We were there about a year. Guillaume and I both realized we'd made a mistake so we divorced amicably and I came home. I tried looking up Mel but it was too late. She'd moved on. And you...you'd disappeared. You were unlisted. You never came to the Diner. You didn't contact any of the gang. And I had Gus. I couldn't waste time looking. So I've spent these years looking after him the best I could. Debbie helped with babysitting and money but things have always been tight. But we get by."

"I guess that was when I was in my workaholic phase," Brian said regretfully, "To think you were back in Pittsburgh this whole time! Oh Lindsay, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry about Mel! And I promise, things will never be "tight" again!"

"Talk is cheap," said Lindsay shortly.

"True!" Brian replied, "However, I am not! I'm loaded and I promise, from now on, you will want for nothing!"

And so saying, he drew out his chequebook and proceeded to quickly write out 6 cheques for $3,000 .00 each, one for this month and then one per month in the future for 5 months.

Lindsay tried to stop him. "I know where you're money comes from! Stockwell! I won't take a dime of his blood money!"

"I have lots of accounts that make me money. I just closed one yesterday with a Japanese company that should set me up for life. I got it so I could ditch Stockwell entirely! And now I can! Just consider this money coming from them instead!" Brian answered reasonably.

However, Lindsay was a woman and a lesbian besides and counted it within her rights to be as unreasonable as she wanted. She opened her mouth to refuse him again but before she could get out a sound another voice piped up.

"Mother, why is this man giving us money?" asked Gus in a childlike but determined and...intelligent fashion. Unnoticed by anyone, a small hand had reached out and taken the first cheque Brian had ripped off. He was examining it closely. "Sir, why would you care about us? Why are you doing this?"

"Double G, NO!" Lindsay shrieked. But it was too late.

Brian was on his third cheque when Gus asked his question. He froze. Slowly, he looked up. "What...did you say?" he asked wonderingly.

"Mother, this cheque is for 3,000 dollars. Why would this man, a stranger, give this to us?" Gus asked Lindsay, as if Brian wasn't even in the room. Then he turned his green eyes to Brian and gave him a cold look, "Not so nice being talked about like you weren't even there, is it?" he asked.

Brian opened his mouth and then shut it again. His astonishment and befuddlement was total. This place...this place was not a basement. It was a Twilight Zone, Narnia, and a rabbit hole leading to Wonderland all at once. And Brian had fallen in and was falling, still falling, not yet hitting the bottom of wonders. "Huh?" he managed finally.

"Wow, smart and pretty!" Gus said in sarcasm, "Well then, since no one seems to want to introduce us, my name is GusGus, otherwise known as Double G! And you are..." he looked at the cheque carefully, "Brian...Kinney. So, Brian Kinney...for the last time...who are you, and why are you giving my mother money?"

But Brian was still shell-shocked. "You're smart! Really smart!"

Snowshine decided to step in. "Double G, it's very simple. You see Brian here...Brian is your father. He's missed you very much. And so, I've brought him here to meet you."

"I thought you said I didn't have a father?" Gus asked his mother.

Lindsay crossed her arms and sulked. She saw the situation had quickly spiralled out of her control. "As far as I'm concerned, you didn't. Not for a long time."

"Well, you did! Uhh...you DO!" Brian said vehemently. "And if I'd known you were around, I would have been around a lot more! I would have visited you all the time! I thought you were in France! I missed you all the time and it killed me all the time to think you were growing up in a foreign way, speaking a strange language, unable to recognize me, even if you wanted to!"

Gus looked at him carefully. "Do you really mean that?"

"Yes. I really do.'

Gus got up on his chair, got up on the table and crawled his way over to his father. He sat in front of him with his legs dangling over the edge of the table. "Now...look at me carefully. Say it again. I promise you, I will know if you are lying."

Brian looked into the green orbs of the pint sized version of himself and said simply "I want you. I want to know you and to find out what I missed. I want to take care of you and help take care of you when you're with your Mom. I will deny you nothing. Well, as far as I am able anyway. How bout we do something sometime? I'll take you to a baseball game."

Gus looked deep into the face that looked so much like his. "I believe you." He said just as simply. "You can take me to the planetarium."

Brian blinked. "The plana-whoium?"

Gus quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? Change your mind already?"

"No. I just don't know what that is."

"Oh for the love of…Well, I'm not going to tell you. I don't have the time or energy to waste. I should be getting back. You'll have to Google it."

"Google it! Oh, I don't think I've ever heard anything so adorable and disturbing all at the same time! How? How did you get so smart?"

"I'm a child progidy!" said Gus proudly.

That's prodigy, GusGus," Snowshine corrected gently.

Gus waved him off. "Prodigy, progidy, strategy, stragedy," he said dismissively, "Let's just call the whole thing off!"

They all laughed. They couldn't help it. And then Brian did what he had been wanting to do ever since he had laid eyes on him. He took him into his arms and covered his little face that looked so much like his own with kisses.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

All too soon, Gus started to squirm and wiggle out of Brian`s tight embrace in the way children do when they figure they are too big for baby stuff. Brian gave him one last squeeze and then gently let him down to the ground.

"Mama, can I go back to playing?" Gus asked.

"Of course, punkin," Lindsay said with a smile," Go ahead."

"Yaaaaaaayyy!" Gus was immediately transformed. He ran to the door and threw it open. He ran out into the workroom and ran toward the Playroom. Several people called out to him and yelled, "Hiiii, Double G!" They all clearly adored him.

Gus stopped and yelled in aforementioned adorable fashion. "Hi everybody! I'm gonna play!" he rose both arms in the air and waved madly. Everybody chuckled at his antics and more than a few other people answered back, "Hi Double G!"

Brian got up and went to the door to close it but watched through it part ways closed. Gus passed by a desk with a young woman behind it who stopped him gently.

"Hey Double G! Where have you been and where are ya goin'?"

"I was talkin' with my Mommy and Mr. Snowshine! Wasn't I lucky? Now I hafta go back to the Playroom!"

"You sure were! How'd you like to do a little job for me before you go back to the Playroom? In fact, when you're done, I'll take you back myself!"

A job! What do I hafta do?" asked Gus in adorable six year old fashion.

"I just need you to take the papers from here...and this photograph...alllll the way down to Mr. Gills down to the end there and then bring me back anything he gives you for me. Can you do that?"

"I can do it! I can do it!" Gus yelled jumping on the tips of his toes in excitement.

"OK, here you go!" She gave him the stuff.

Gus ran down the length of the room. "I'm helping! I'm helping!" he shrieked in joy. Everybody paused in their work to watch him adoringly.

Brian shut the door on the scene.

"What happened to him?" he asked, "He's back to acting like...well, like he's six again!"

"He IS six, Brian!" Lindsay rolled her eyes contemptuously.

Justin eyed her reprovingly. "Lindsay...try to cut him a break. He's trying to make amends here."

"I don't care! I don't want them and I don't want his money either!" Lindsay sulked.

"_I'll_ take the money and give it to the Accountant." Justin pocketed the cheques. "He'll provide the necessary funds when you need them."

Lindsay growled in grumpy frustration.

"Hey, an accountant huh! Good idea, Justin! And remember, that money's for Gus, _not you!_ It's not an excuse to run out and buy a lot of clothes or a new living room set!" Brian yelled, going on the attack. He had been nothing but submissive and polite to these people and he was tired of being treated like a punching bag.

"Lindsay's eyes flashed. "I would never!"

"Oh that's right! You're more into the leather scene these days!" Brian said nastily.

"Why you overstuffed, snot-nosed..." Lindsay reached for a stiletto.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Justin raised his voice just enough and slammed down a palm on the table with a satisfying WHAP! They both jumped and were silenced instantly by the strength and authority of his tone. Reluctantly, Lindsay put away the knife and backed down.

"All right, this is getting us nowhere. Lindsay, you may go. I will explain things further to Brian."

"But – but you can't! He wants to take my son! Besides, if you tell him anything more he'll tell Stockwell! You'll practically be handing us over to him on a silver..."

"That will do!" Again, Justin's voice cut across the scene like one of her stilettos. "I would not have summoned him here if I were concerned that this was an issue."

"But..."

Please tell the Seven that we will have a meeting in two hours and that we will have a new member on the council. Thank you Lindsay." It was clear she was dismissed.

Growling in discontent, she grumped her way to the door. As she reached it, she whirled and pointed her finger, her face a mask of hate.

"You'll regret this! He'll betray us all! You'll see! And you'll suffer the worst for him! Mark my words!"

And with this terrible portent, she wrenched open the door and slammed her way out of the room.

There was a silence.

"You know, there's no point in antagonizing one who already hates you," Justin said gently but reprovingly.

"Yes Justin, I know," Brian said submissively, "I just got so angry! I've done nothing but co-operate since I got here and all I get is more and more abuse! I'm sick of this shit! Just what the hell is going on around here that's so secret! And I still want to know what happened to Gus!"

Justin teepee'ed his fingers and paused a moment to think about where to start. He decided to explain Gus first.

"Nothing's happened to Gus. He's a prodigy. I dare say he's smarter than all of us put together. I'm the leader because he's only 6 but actually he's the brains of this entire operation. But it's terribly secret. He's our most precious commodity. Only the original Seven and myself are aware of his true nature. Around everyone else, and the other children, he acts as if he's six."

" As for what's going on, well…Stop Prop 14 is going on! That is what is so secret! And that is why everyone is so defensive! The cops have a standing APB out on me. This whole rebel movement is driving Stockwell insane with rage. If he knew about this place he'd shoot everyone here, ask questions later, set the place on fire and doctor the whole thing to make it look like WE did it ourselves! Pittsburgh has become a police state for gays, Brian! How have you not noticed this!"

"Stockwell hasn't really called me into work there for about a week now!" Brian sounded sulky himself now. "And I was working hard on my Japanese account to get free of him. After that horrible Prop 14, I was so disgusted with him, I guess I've been ignoring him. And I'm so straight acting and surly, nobody bothers me. So I don't bother with them."

"Well, if you did, you'd see that our freedoms are disappearing one by one. Cops are everywhere! No gay couples are allowed to even hold hands on the street! Gay adoption in Pittsburgh has been revoked. Stockwell is penalizing gay bars over the slightest infraction to shut them down. Babylon is closed, Brian!"

"What! No!" Brian was horrified.

"Yes! And Woody's and Boytoy! And Meathook has been targeted next, my resources tell me! They've received 3 "anonymous" complaints of noise so far this week."

"That's terrible!"  
>"It's only the beginning! That's why we are so careful to keep our efforts hidden. We MUST defeat him, Brian! If not, our world, or lives will become as blank and dreary as if...as if everything were painted in black and white! And we need your help!"<p>

"My help! What can I do?"

Justin smiled. "Brian...you are his campaign manager! His right hand man! You are the only one who can get close enough to him to get evidence on him! Maybe get him to confess more evildoings to you when he thinks you're "in private". We'll bug you, the same way he did, only WE'll be listening this time!"

"I don't know...this all sound incredibly dangerous," said Brian.

"Believe me, it is! But is Lindsay right? Or can I at least trust you to keep our secrets the way you've kept his?"

"Yes! Of course Justin! However, remember...you want me to spill _his_ secrets!"

"Yes, that's true! However, I have one thing he doesn't as collateral!"

"Oh? What's that?"

"Your ass!" Justin cried, and jumped onto his lap and kissed him soundly. Brian kissed him back hotly and thoroughly. The chair they were in swivelled around and around as their tongues duelled and both made hungry groans of pleasure and desire in the back of their throats.

When they finally came up for air, Justin lay his head on Brian's chest. "I missed you," he said, "Every day, I missed you. Did you miss me?"

"You know I did…Rumplestiltskin! You little cheeky bastard! Fortunately, I saw the news that night, so I knew what happened and I knew you wouldn't be back but I was still terribly worried. I didn't believe it for a second." He fingered Justin's goatee, which was as soft and silky as the rest of his hair. "But I worried every second. I took to checking those pearls more and more until it became an automatic thing." He giggled. "Nearly drove my assistant, Cynthia, insane."

"Short drive, with you as a boss," Justin teased.

"Hmmmph!" Brian hmmphed. He stroked Justin's hair and goatee and just relished holding his man in his arms at last.

Suddenly Justin's hand went over Brian's, covering his goatee. "Do you like the beard?" he asked self consciously, "I know it changes my look a little. I wasn't sure…"

"Nahhh…It's hot! Just like the rest of you! And I meant it! I wouldn't have it any other color!"

They kissed hotly for a few minutes.

At last they broke away. Brian kissed him one more time and then looked into his too blue eyes and asked, "Oh Justin, what happened to you? What really happened? And how did you end up here? Not to mention become the leader of…here?"

"After I left your loft and was picked up with Ethan, he drove me almost to the station where he broke down and told me of a terrible plot. Stockwell had blackmailed him into planting those drugs. He told me there was going to be an inspection and to run."

"Surely he didn't tell you this out of the goodness of his heart!" Brian guessed shrewdly.

"No. It turned out he was in love with me," Justin admitted, "He had been since the day we met. Poor Ethan. I never knew."

"Whadd'ya mean, poor Ethan?" Brian asked jealously.

"Oh, Brian, don't be like that. Like I said, I had no idea. And he only told me because he could see how in love I was with you. He saw his chance had been lost forever. So he revealed Stockwell's wickedness and I followed his advice and ran but before I'd reached a block away, Ethan's car exploded! He was POOF! Gone, just like that! More of Stockwell's doing, I'm sure but I couldn't prove it. Now, I couldn't prove anything! So I ran. I got as much money from ATMs as I could before they shut down on me and ran into the city. I hid in a homeless shelter for a day. The next day it was full and I slept in an alley. Cops were everywhere. I used a box to hide. I was starting to grow a beard. The next day, I just wandered around. Somehow, I ended up on Liberty Avenue. It was ironic, really. I'd ended up right back where I'd started. Right where I first saw you. So I guess it had to be about 12 days ago that I…"

TBC


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 8

12 days ago...

Justin stood there in the dwindling twilight directly across the street from Babylon.

"It was right here," he thought, "It was right here that I saw Brian the first time."

Alas, this time there was no Brian, no friends, no one at all. It was too early for all that and Babylon and most of the other bars on Liberty Ave. were closed. The street itself was deserted.

The streetlights came on in a sweeping motion all along the street. Once again, Justin was standing in the middle of a puddle of light. This time there was no vain twink to shove him out of the way. He pulled his hood down and his white hair fairly gleamed in the light.

"Here I am, Brian. I'm here. I'm six years late but I'm here," Justin whispered in melancholy reflection.

Nobody answered him. There was nobody there. Babylon's heavy door remained fast shut and impassive, deaf to his words and blind to his sadness.

A tear ran down his cheek but its track started to slow halfway down and when he blinked it away, it froze on the way down and hit the ground solid. In wonder, he picked it up and looked at it. It shone and sparkled in the light. It was as if he had cried out a diamond. He knew he could not spend the night out on the streets tonight. It was cold and getting colder, perhaps even a storm would hit. If he were outside tonight, he would be dead before the sun rose.

And whatever it took, even if it was the sole reason to piss off Stockwell, Justin intended to survive.

BWOP! BWOP! A cop car blared its siren in a warning to say..."I'm coming! Look out!"

Shit! Another one! Justin had been ducking those things all day for the past two days and he was beginning to get sick of that sound. He pulled his hood over his head and ran into an alley. He pressed himself against the wall and behind a dumpster, out of sight.

BWOP! BWOP! The cop car was closer now. Justin could hear the tires crunching in the snow as it cruised slowly down the street. It drew level with the alley. Justin pressed himself desperately against the wall. The cops shone a bright spotlight into the alley and it lit up like day. However, it revealed nothing but an empty alley and the cop car finally moved on.

Justin knew they were looking for him. Over and over throughout the last two days, he'd had to backtrack, turn corners that he didn't want, take shortcuts through alleyways, go into stores and ask for the back way out, over and over. Cops were everywhere. And these cars, the ones with searchlights seemed to be on every street, every avenue, hounding him, dogging his footsteps. He was damn sick of it.

Yes, he needed to get off the street tonight to escape the weather and if nothing else, just to escape those damnable cars.

As soon as the car had moved on, Justin popped his head out and as soon as the coast was clear, ran the other way.

He was a block away from Babylon when the wind picked up and it started to snow. Two blocks away, it_ really_ started to snow. Justin ducked into a recess of a doorway and shivered. He felt like he had reached the end of the line. He didn't know what to do. He just didn't. He couldn't keep on the run and alert and warm all at the same time. He had to find a refuge. He just had to.

And then, two blocks down and one block over to the right from Babylon, he found it. On the corner was a small but cozy looking diner called Liberty Diner. Above the door flew the American and the Rainbow flags. Lights shone out of the front like a friendly beacon.

Justin needed no further urging. It was like it was heaven sent. He jogged across the street and toward it.

BWOP! BWOP!

Justin gritted his teeth. Goddammit! How he hated that sound now! Couldn't they give him a moment of peace?

He ran faster and ducked inside Liberty Diner before the cops in the car could see him.

The inside was as warm and cozy as it looked like from the outside. The floor was white linoleum, the booths were bright orange. There were horizontal blinds over the windows. Justin took a seat and turned the blinds closed over his window with a 'SNAP' just as the cop's spotlight hit it. And then it was past and he was safe. For now.

"Yur cuttin' it kinda close there, old timer," said a transvestite who had materialized out of nowhere. "We close at 7."

It was 6: 45 PM.

_Old timer huh? Hmmmm..._ Justin thought quickly.

"Ohhh, please...uh...Kiki," Justin implored in a wavery old man's voice, looking at her tag. "Surely I have time for a cup of hot chocolate and maybe..." he scanned the menu desperately, "A burger?"

Kiki shook her head slowly and snapped her gum.

"Hot turkey sandwich?" Justin tried again gamely.

Another shake.

"Cold turkey?"

Kiki started a shake and then considered. "Well...maybe..."

"Cold turkey aaannnd...I help you wash up?" offered Justin.

"Really?" Kiki asked sceptically.

"Really. Call it compensation for helping out an old man in need. Oh, please miss, don't send me back out there with something warm in me," Justin made his voice as wavery and pathetic as possible and gave her a full dose of wide puppy dog eyes.

He never did know what convinced her. Maybe the fact that he was old, maybe his voice or his eyes or a combination of all three. Maybe it was the fact he called him miss. But she finally agreed and brought him what he asked for and a hot turkey sandwich besides.

"Ohhh, thank you miss! Thank-you for your kindness to a lonely old man! I'm sure it will be repaid one day!"

"Never mind that! Just eat up and I'll be waiting for you in the kitchen!"

"Oh, yes'm!" Justin began to eat with gusto. Kiki eyed him but left him be to go into the kitchen.

"Who is it!" screeched a voice.

"Calm down. It's just an old man! He's nice! He offered to help me clean up."

"No, that's not a good idea!" said a woman's voice. "We need the diner's space to go over this material and stuff envelopes. We can't let Stockwell become mayor! Wait till you see this draft that my contact at the Gay/Lesbian Center sent me."

"We can always just...you know!" said the screechy voice.

"We can NOT!" said Kiki furiously, "He's just a kindly old man! And keep your voices down! He might here you!'

Kiki popped her head out of the order window and checked on Justin. "How you doin' hon!"

Justin smiled widely with his mouth closed and full in what he hoped was a clueless and adorable fashion. He waved with his sleeve down over his hand to make it seem like his clothes didn't fit and to hide the fact his hand wasn't wrinkled. He cupped his hand over his ear and gestured.

"What!" he yelled loudly, "Sometimes the hearing aid goes out! I'm a little deaf!" he screamed.

Kiki held out a spread palm to indicate 5 minutes and Justin gave a thumbs up in response. Kiki's head popped back in.

"Well, you heard him. He's deaf. He's not a threat. So put that away and stop that kind of talk, Whiny!"

Put that away? Was he packing heat? What was going on with these people? What had he walked into?

"Indeed. This behaviour is getting us nowhere. But mother is right. Nothing can be done till the customer leaves," said a voice that was so young it sounded...childlike.

"Don't worry Double G. I gave him 5 minutes and he's eating quite fast. He'll be done soon. Vixen, what's this all about?"

"It's called Proposition 14. It's the newest outrage that Stockwell has come up with targeting gays. And guess who's leading the charge! Brian Kinney!

There were shocked reactions all around. Justin identified at least three new voices. It must be packed in there.

"Brian Kinney! At last you've surfaced," Vixen mused to herself regretfully, "After all these years, only to show up as Stockwell's campaign manager!"

More gasps all around.

"But why? Doesn't he realise what a monster Stockwell is?" said one of the new voices.

"Of course. He must. He just doesn't care. It boils down to two things, just as it always did. Himself and money. He's Brian Fucking Kinney. He'll never change," said Vixen.

"So...he not only abandons us but now he betrays us as well," Whiny said, "I didn't know it was possible, but I hate him even more than I already did. If I ever meet him face to face, he's a dead man!"

Everyone ignored him which was the norm. "What's this Proposition 14?" Kiki asked.

"It's a bill Stockwell and Brian made up targeting gays and it's basically a written hate crime! It'll make gay bars illegal, going out in public as a gay couple impossible and allow anyone to deny recreational services to an out gay person in nearly any venue. We wouldn't even be able to go see a movie unless we were in the closet!"

Everyone was stupefied and then made the appropriate outraged noises. Even Justin nearly choked. Brian? Brian did this? Impossible. It was impossible. Wasn't it?

"I don't believe it! I simply don't believe it!" said a strident voice. (Yet _another_ one, it must be simply packed back there) "Brian Kinney is a lot of things and an asshole no question but he's also gay enough to have worked his way through Babylon twice! There's no way he would have had any part in writing anything so hideous! He just wouldn't!"

"Oh Ma, wake up and smell the coffee! He's changed somehow!" whined Whiny, "We all have. He stopped coming to Liberty Diner, the Avenue and Babylon years ago! He doesn't care about us anymore! Who knows? Maybe he never did!"

"Michael Navotney! Now you know that's not true! You remember when he was here, he spent lots of time here and with you and..."

"Yeah, as long as it suited _him_! As long as we did whatever _he_ wanted! Otherwise we could have been as important as whatever he brushed off the bottom of his shoe!"

"I already said that he was an asshole!" Strident person shot back, "And selfish to boot but being selfish is a far cry from betraying your whole sexual orientation! He just wouldn't do it. I won't believe it!"

Justin silently agreed and blessed the strident voice.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Justin read the writing on the wall and shoved the rest of his food in his mouth. Sure enough...

"Well, I'll go check on the old timer then," Kiki piped up trying to break the tension

"Do more then check! Get rid of him! And if you let him back here...he's dead!" Whiny warned, keeping the tension intact.

"For fuck's sake, Whiny..." it was Kiki's turn to whine but she let herself trail off as she left the kitchen.

"How you doin' hon," she said.

Justin was just finishing up. "Oh, that was the best thing, I ever ate in a long time!" he gushed a la old man. "How can I ever repay you?"

"With $7.95 plus tip. And then I need you to leave before the weather really gets going too hard."

"Oh, of course, of course!" said Justin who had no intention of leaving. "Here's 10 dollars. Will that be enough?"

"Yes, that's fine! And now..."

"I know! I know! I hope you don't think I'd forgotten my promise! I'm going to help you clean up!"

"WHAT! NO! I mean, no...no, that's ok! Really!"

"Nonsense! Now don't you worry! With my help you'll be up and outta here in no time. Now...where's the kitchen? Is that the door?" Justin began to dodder towards the back, in classic old man style, pretending oblivion to both Kiki's panic stricken face and the click he heard behind the door.

"The...the dishwasher!" Kiki blurted out.

"I beg your pardon, young lady?" Justin stopped in front of the kitchen door.

"I mean...well, I just remembered! The dishwasher's nearly full. With your dishes it will make a full load and neither of us will have to do any work at all! So you can just leave! Just go!" Justin was amused at the slight hysterical quality Kiki was unable to keep out of her voice.

"Ohhhhh...Are you sure?" Justin asked a little sadly.

"Yes! Oh yes! Absolutely!" Kiki said manically.

"Oh. All right then." Justin put the dishes down on the counter. He shuffled over and gave her a small awkward hug. "Well, you're a very good waitress, to take care of me so well," he said awkwardly. "May I use the washroom before I go?"

Justin was amused to hear a collective groan behind the kitchen door. He ignored it utterly.

"Uhhh, sure. But hurry up and then just be on your way, OK? You're all paid up and everything."

"All right, all right. Thank you, miss. I won't be long."

Kiki watched the old timer shuffle into the bathroom and then picked up the dishes and went into the kitchen where she dumped the dishes into the sink of hot water that Debbie had ready. They had no dishwasher.

"I thought I told you to get rid of him!" Whiny hissed.

"What was I going to do? Deny an old man the bathroom?" Kiki hissed back, starting on the dishes. "He'll be like five minutes! Can you hold your water...for five more minutes!"

She finished the dishes and sure enough it wasn't too much longer that they heard the bell over the door ring. They all let out a collective sigh of relief. After Kiki had poked her head out to make sure the coast was clear. It was. She dashed over to the door and locked it, pulled shades and turned the open sign to Closed before anybody else could come in.

"Coast is clear!" she cried.

And so, out of the kitchen trooped an assortment of characters that needed to be seen to be believed.

There came:

A large mid 50 ish woman with bushy red hair. (Strident voice)

A thirty-five or so year old dark haired man in a black suit who was _finally_ putting his gun away in his shoulder holster.

A blond woman holding the hand of a dark haired six year old boy.

A short man with beautiful teeth followed closely and holding the jealous hand of a 40-ish man dressed all in leather.

And finally a tall, thin man who you could tell by sight that his gay "flame" as it were, burned high and bright and brighter than the rest. He was dressed in pink and tight pants, walked with a swish in his step, and had a charming gap in his front teeth.

One by one, the kitchen disgorged its inhabitants and Kiki's head spun as always. It was like watching clown after clown step out of one of those tiny cars.

"I'll be right back," said Whiny and disappeared into the washroom. He re-appeared a few minutes later. "All clear," he reported.

"Oh Whiny, he wouldn't have been there. We all heard the bell ring," Kiki said.

"You never know," Whiny said distrustfully.

Everybody sat down at two booths adjacent to each other and sat down to a kind of council of war. Lindsay brought out the draft of Prop 14 and one by one they all got to read it.

"Over my dead body!" said the red haired woman.

"Terrible!" said the man with the wide teeth.

'My Aunt Lula just turned over!" declared the tall, gap-toothed man.

"This is monstrous!" the man in leather burst out, "Oh, I wish Mel – uh...that we had a lawyer. Sorry Linds."

"No, that's ok! You're right. I wish Melanie was here too. If not for that, in a professional capacity. She'd make mincemeat out of this. As it is...I don't know anyone else that was as good as her with this stuff. Maybe if I put out some feelers at the GLC..."

"Bahhh...That'll take too long!" scoffed Whiny. "Something's got to be done now!"

"Well, that's why we're here. I've prepared some draft letters that will go to politicians, the mayor, governor, state reps, the works. _And_ the GLC! We've got to cover all the bases. We've got to stop this...this Prop 14!"

"Hmmmm...Stop Prop 14! I like the sound of that!" said the tall, gap-toothed man. "That's what we should call ourselves!"

There was a general murmur of agreement.

After that, they all got to work. Lindsay and the short man with the teeth whose name was Blake, pulled out laptops and began to type out the sample letters. Others ran out to a stationery store and had Stop Prop 14 and the letters photocopied multiple times. They all talked animatedly about their plans.

"This is all very well and good," said the little boy at one point, "But it's not nearly enough."

"What do you mean Double G?" asked his mother.

"A letter campaign can be ignored. We need to think bigger. We need to be active! Rallies! Protests! Do things that they can't ignore!"

"The kid's right," the man in leather said, "As usual."

They all continued in their work but as it grew later, they began to flag, one by one. Double G fell asleep. Blake, his leathered lover, and Michael wanted to go to Babylon. Emmett, the tall flamer began to get tired. Even Kiki began to yawn and finally begged off to go home to his/her lover. And so, even though they were not halfway through, they decided to call it a night. They left the remaining paperwork to be envelope stuffed out on the two booths to be finished in the morning. They packed up, Lindsay awoke Double G and they all trooped out. Debbie was last out. She took a last look over everything and shut off the lights and then locked the door.

Everything was silent and still and dark in the diner.

About 5 minutes passed.

There was a faint thumping from somewhere.

And then, from underneath one of the booths, a square piece of wood that was socketed into the frame of the booth popped out and skittered across the diner floor. It was now revealed that there was a cavity underneath the seat of the booth. And from out of this cavity, slid a very cramped and very dirty Justin Taylor.

TBC


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 9

Justin looked out the window of the diner and shivered before turning the final blinds closed in satisfaction. He was warm, he was sheltered and best of all, he was hidden. At least for tonight. Outside, the snow was falling thick and fast and slanting down at a 45 degree angle.

Earlier, he had kept a keen eye out for a hiding place as he ate. He knew the bathroom was too obvious and he realized that if he could hear the others, the others would definitely be able to hear him. And so, after he had made his declaration to need to use the washroom, he had gone inside, watched through a crack as Kiki had disappeared into the kitchen. Even before the door had finished swinging, he had zipped out, crawled across the floor, and pulled and popped out the board that revealed the cavity underneath the squooshy, orange booth.

He knew he'd only have a few seconds more to pull the rest of this off.

Quickly he went to the door, found a floor wedge, and tied a string to it that he'd had in his pocket. He held onto the bell and opened the door carefully and wedged it open. Then he ran to his hidey hole, taking the other end of the string and scurried halfway in. He yanked the string and pulled string and wedge to him and into his hiding place with him. He was popping the sockets back into each other just as the door closed, ringing the bell. He pulled and adjusted a bit more and then huddled up and set down to wait.

He had been just in time. A few seconds after the bell, he'd heard Kiki call out: "Coast is clear!"

He knew by staying here he was placing himself in terrible danger. It was clear that this "Whiny" character was completely unstable. He was packing heat. And he'd heard all their plans. They hated Stockwell and undoubtedly all cops as well.

But Justin was no ordinary cop. He was not only a VERY good cop, he was wanted for a crime he didn't commit. His partner had been ruthlessly murdered. Justin thought for a moment in a sad way to Cody and figured...maybe _both_ his partners had been murdered. That anonymous tip that had blown their cover had to have come from somewhere. Why not Stockwell? The more Justin thought about it, the more it made sense. If all had gone according to plan, that bigoted homophobe would have been rid of the two fags on the force...at the time.

But things had _not_ gone according to plan. Justin had survived. And Stockwell had been trying to discredit/fire him on a regular basis ever since.

Sighing, Justin gave up this depressing thread of thought. He couldn't prove any of it.

After washing the grime of the underbelly of the booth off of him, he went over to the unfinished paperwork. He read Proposition 14 in the light of the bathroom and felt nauseous afterward. They had all been right. It was monstrous and basically a written hate crime. But if _you_ were the one making the laws, was anything therefore illegal?

Justin looked up after reading it with wet cheeks. Had Brian _really_ had anything to do with this? It was true enough that Justin didn't know anything about Brian. They had simply met, gone out and fell into each other with a fierce and feral intensity that Justin couldn't have resisted if he had tried. And he hadn't resisted. But he also had seen no trace of this "asshole", "selfish", "bastard", man whore-ish "Stud" who wanted to work his way through the great Babylon twice, if he'd wanted to. Brian had only been kind, gentle, understanding about his hair. Granted he had been a voracious lover. But that was the only thing that had been left of the "Stud" of Liberty Avenue. Perhaps he had changed in more ways than they could imagine. No, Justin couldn't see Brian doing this to his own, his queer peers. But he would have to be confronted for confirmation.

He dared not turn on any lights and so he propped the bathroom door open with the wedge and worked in that dim light. Carefully, he correlated and stuffed the rest of the envelopes, folding them closed instead of sealing them in case the others wanted to check his work or add something else. He felt sure they would want to do the former and wasn't sure about the latter but decided to err on the side of caution.

It was painstaking work and in the dim light, he worked slowly and carefully. It took him a long time. But Justin didn't mind. After all, what else did he have now except time?

At last he was done. The last envelope was stuffed and stacked in its neat pile. Justin yawned and stretched. He was terribly sleepy. He went to the bathroom, washed his face, swished his mouth vigorously with water (oh, how he wished he had some toothpaste!) and then turned out the bathroom light. He shuffled sleepily over to the booth farthest away from the door and lay down on the slick but soft surface. He curled into the fetal postion and faced the back of the booth.

A wave of homesickness, home being Brian`s loft, Brian`s bed, Brian`s arms, passed through him so strong, so painful that he sucked in a breath and swallowed the tears.

Unknown to him, across town, a dark masculine figure stood at his large windows looking out at the storm and at a flower truck that hadn`t moved in 48 hrs. Unbidden, his hand twitched. _Clack!__Clack!_

In a few minutes Justin was fast asleep.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJJB

"Hey Ma, I think I found our elf!"

Such were the strange words that Justin was rudely and unpleasantly awoken to the next morning. The waking might have been strange but not so rude or so unpleasant, if the speaker had not had such an angry and derisive tone.

"Well, let's have a look at him!" said the strident voice from last night, yet which sounded more curious than anything else right now.

Even as Justin was turning over, waking up, Michael kicked him in the leg unkindly. "Get up!" he said harshly.

"Ow!" Justin protested as he sat up, still feeling groggy and blinking blearily.

"Michael! Was that necessary!" his mother said.

"Yes! He's a dangerous freeloading thief who broke in! I'm not going to waste time saying how do you do! What would you suggest? Making him coffee!"

"Oh, that's a good idea! I think we could all use a cup and _settle__down_! How do you do? I'm Deb but you can call me Red if you want to," said Deb before bustling over to the coffeemaker.

"I'm Justin. How do you do?" said Justin.

Michael turned red and fumed.

"Hey, I know you...You're the old timer from last night," said Kiki, who had also come in. "But you're voice...it sounds different. You're not really old, are you?"

"No, I'm not. But I needed you to think I was because I wanted to stay in here out of the storm. I'm sorry for deceiving you but I was desperate. I was so cold and I knew if I was outside again last night, I'd have been dead before morning."

"That's not our problem!" Michael snarled.

What's all this about an elf?" Justin asked, ignoring Michael.

"When we came in, we were expecting a mound of tedious office work to clear away. But instead it was already done and we all felt as if we were having a Shoemaker and the Elves moment. But then Michael found you and...here we are!" Deb said, bringing over cups of hot coffee to the table. "Did you do all this!"

"Yes, I did." Justin sipped the bitter brew and relished its warmth.

"But why?" asked Deb.

Justin opened his mouth open to speak but before he could get a word out, the bell over the door rang and there was body after body tumbling in out of the sunny snow and the cold.

"We're hee-eeerrrrreeee!" trilled Emmett, "Bright-eyed and bushy tailed and first thing in the morning, just as we promised! Where are those envelopes? We'll have them done in no time! We'll – "

"Come on in, Em, and relax! They're already done and I have coffee on! Come in everybody and meet a new friend!"

"MA!" Michael was scandalized. "DO NOT call this trespasser and squatter our friend! He is nothing of the kind! I was just about to call the police."

"Well, anybody who gets me out of doing work is a friend of mine!" Emmett exclaimed, pushing his way over. He was followed closely by Ted, Blake, Lindsay and Gus who was adorably decked out in a blue snowsuit with a white fur fringe on his hood and red mittens.

Gus climbed up on the booth across from Justin and pulled down his hood. He stared at Justin curiously. They ALL stared at him curiously as if he was an ancient Chinese artifact that had suddenly dropped out of the sky and into their laps.

"Who are you?" asked Gus.

"My name is Justin Taylor. I've been on the streets for a few days now and I was too far from a shelter to get there before the storm hit. I was desperate. So when I saw your lights and your flags...both your flags, I decided to make this my shelter...however I could. I AM sorry I had to hide and deceive you all. I was going to ask, really I was. But there was so little time and then...well, I heard you all in the kitchen and it was too late to back out of it then. So I hid. After you left, I came out and sat a bit and read over that terrible Proposition 14. And...then I stuffed the rest of the envelopes. I left them open in case I did it wrong but I don't think I did. And then I went to sleep. That's all."

"But where?" asked Michael in spite of himself, "I checked the bathroom and there's no-where else!"

"Besides...we all heard the door bell ring," added Lindsay.

Justin explained about the space underneath the booths. When he was done, Gus looked impressed, Deb and Lindsay looked shocked and grossed out, and Kiki, Ted, Emmett, and Blake all showed varying degrees of surprise and amusement. Michael was apoplectic with rage.

"You...sonofabitch sneak! You're a sneak and a trespasser and a thief! And...and a sneaking little...sneak!" he repeated unable to think of anything more in his anger. "That's it! A confession right from your lying lips! I'm calling the cops!" He reached for his phone.

"One, if I was lying, then my "confession" would be completely untrue which would mean I never confessed at all. Two, I've stolen nothing. And three, there's no need to call the cops...You see, I am a cop...or I was." And he produced his badge.

They all looked at it and then at him in a new light and more than a few of them looked a little worried. They had spent the evening trashing the Chief of all cops and now here was one sitting here, one who had heard all their jibes and subversive plans against him and his evil Bill.

Michael was now simply_ incoherent_ with rage.

"You! You're one...of ...of..._them!_" he finished venomously, unable to come up with a fitting epithet, he was so disgusted. And besides, Gus was there. "You sneaking spying...That's it! Don't you see, everyone! He came to spy on us and then report into HIM! Oh, how I hate cops! How I utterly loathe and disgust cops! You're all _just_..._like_..._him_!" He drew his gun and put in to Justin's temple.

Everyone sucked in a terrified breath but Justin was unconcerned. He yawned. It really was _very_ early in the morning for such dramatics.

With one hand he picked up his coffee and took a sip and with the other he made a sort of karate chop to Michael's arm in a rather offhand way. The idea was to create a kind of reflex jerk in Michael's hand. This is what happened. The gun flipped out of Michael`s hand and Justin's hand flashed out and caught it before it started to come down.

Justin pointed the gun at Michael's face. "Pop! Pop! You're dead! Are you happy now! Are you satisfied! Now...will you SHUT UP and calm down even if it's to figure out why you're so angry with me? Which is it? Freeloader...or helper? (He gestured to the envelopes) Thief...or cop? Liar...or confessor? Make up your mind! Control yourself! And until you do get yourself under control, I'll be keeping this, thank you very much!" He made sure the safety was on and then put the gun in one of his pockets.

Angry and now humiliated, Michael's face grew redder than it already was but he nevertheless backed down. He stalked over to another booth where he sat down facing away from them. He began to look out the window and pretend he was the only one there.

Meanwhile, Justin was surrounded by clapping and cheers and pats on the shoulder, and even a rough thump on the back by the man in leather.

"Yippee!"cried Emmett.

"That was SOOO cool!" said Kiki.

"I've been wanting to do something like that for ages!" said Lindsay gratefully.

"Serves the little asshole right," whispered Deb, "He's been waving that thing around like it was nothing for forever! About time someone showed him up. Here...have a lemon bar!"

"Uh...thanks!" said Justin awkwardly. But he didn't really want it. Not for this. He didn't want to be idolized...for that.

Too late. Gus had slid his little self down and underneath the table and when he had re-emerged he was on Justin's side of the booth. He snuggled into the surprised man's side and looked up at him with emerald green eyes. "Will you teach me how to do that Jus'n?" he asked winsomely, giving Justin a powerful dose of puppy dog eyes.

Uh! Oh! How was one to answer that? Justin thought fast.

"Not right now Gus. Ask me in a few years. And if I ever do teach you...it'll be so that you never have to use it. Deal?"

"Deal!"

"Gus, honey, that's enough. Come away and stop bothering Justin now."

"Naw – awwww! I wanna sit with Jus'n!"

"It's quite all right. I don't mind. He's adorable!" Justin re-assured Lindsay and then offered her the seat across from him so she could be near him. She gratefully accepted.

Once things had calmed down somewhat, Justin tried to move things along and explain things further.

"As I said, I am a cop...but I also hate Stockwell just as much as you all. More, if that were possible. You see..."

Justin outlined his frame job and being warned away from the station by Ethan just before his murder. There were questions and interruptions and interjections and the whole thing took twice as long as it should have.

Meanwhile, Lindsay got to work sealing the envelopes using a water pen. She checked a few of the envelopes to check Justin's work but was quickly satisfied and got to work sealing them. She made short work of them and by the time Justin was done, they were ready for the post office.

BWOP! BWOP!

Justin winced. "So...there you have it...I _am_ a cop but a disgraced and wanted one at that. You hear that? I bet if you think back that you've been hearing that siren sound a lot lately."

Debbie mused. You know...You're right. Those cars have been going past a lot lately."

"Yes, I know. They hound me, I have to backtrack and crisscross my path constantly. You see...they're looking for me."

All were aghast.

"Last night was the last straw. It was getting stormy...And I couldn't stand hiding anymore. And when I saw your flags...especially the Rainbow flag...I thought I might find some sympathy...some help...and at least one night's respite. As I said, I couldn't make it back to a shelter...I can't go home. I couldn't go back to Brian...to my boyfriend's. And so...I stayed...here. I'm sorry. If you want me to, I'll go now. But I really wish I didn't have to. If you would help me...did help me...I could help you out in return. I could help you with this Stop Prop 14 movement. I know Stockwell's movements and habits to help in your protests. I could stay here in the Diner...at least during the day...off the streets, away from those..."

BWOP! BWOP!

Justin winced. "Away from _those_! If I stayed I could help you clean up the tables and keep the Diner tidy."

Debbie smirked "You mean...be a busboy?"

"I guess that's the term. And I could serve the food and wash the dishes and...whatever you like. Oh what's the term...?"

"You mean... be a waiter and a dishwasher," Debbie supplied helpfully.

"Oh...yes, I guess so," Justin said sheepishly. "So...how bout it?"

There was a silence as they all considered it. Well, all but...

"You guys aren't seriously considering this!" griped Michael, "I've never heard such bullshit in my entire life! This is an obvious con!"

"Oh Whiny, will you stop living up to your name and Shut Up!" yelled Debbie, "We're all trying to think!"

"Here Whi – Mikey, why don't you take the mail to the post office," Lindsay said in a conciliatory tone. It'll give you a chance for some space and time alone to calm down."

"Suits me!" Michael said, angrily helping her to cram the envelopes in a large plastic bag, "I can't stand the sight of all of you right now! Especially you!" He targeted his mother with an angry index finger. He hefted the plastic bag over his shoulder and strode out, slamming the door as he went, a figure in black like an angry and vengeful Santa Claus.

"Well, I think we should help him," said a serious voice Justin didn't recognise. With a shock, he realized it came from right beside him. He turned incredulous eyes onto Gus.

"I've been examining his badge for the last while. If it's a forgery, it's a fantastic one. I think it's real. Which means the rest of his story must be true as well. He didn't steal from us when he could have. He knows all about our Stop Prop 14 plans. He might as well join us. As for where he is to hide out...well I don't know. We can't have him sleeping on booths...but can't we do something? Can't we, Mommy?" His voice reverted back to it's intelligent, charming and six year old voice again.

"Don't worry honey! We'll think of something. You've got my vote," said Lindsay.

At Justin's questioning gaze, she added, "Gus is a genius. He's smarter than all of us put together."

"Wow!" marvelled Justin, "And why did you call Michael, Whiny?"

"This isn't our first...project," Debbie explained, "We all adopted code names in case we ever needed to go incognito. As you can see, my son has enough issues to fill a phone book. So we dubbed him Whiny. My code name is Red. Cause of my hair," she explained unnecessarily.

"Mine's the Accountant," said Ted, "I'm kinda a whiz with numbers."

"Before I met Ted, I had a bad problem with drugs," Blake admitted shamefacedly, "But he got me into rehab eventually and after I got clean, I took a course in electronics. Turns out, I'm a whiz with those and it's my primary job to sweep the place and people we come in contact with for bugs. I'm the Exterminator."

"Vixen," Lindsay said shortly, "And Gus is Double G. His name's a long story. I'll explain later."

"Swish Stick," Emmett said indignantly, "After a _most_ disagreeable run in with another cop. Oh, kind of a morose, wooden faced captain...nothing like you, sweetie!" he went on to reassure Justin, "But alas, the name stuck. _Most_ unfair! I mean really! Do I remind you anything like a swish stick? He huffed and vamped his long thin body swishily and reminded Justin very much like a Nellie swish stick. However, he hid his smile and denied it.

He looked at Kiki. "I'm Kiki, s/he said simply, "We figured that's enough of an odd name already and anyways I only work here part time and I'm not here enough to make much of a difference."

"Oh, that's not true honey!" exclaimed Emmett. Everyone else made encouraging and comforting noises.

"Well, thank you all! I'd love to join your group! And of course, I'll work here in the Diner while I'm here. But Gus is right. I can't continue to stay here at night. What am I gonna do?"

"Don't worry sweetie! Like I said, this isn't our first operation. There's a kind of...place...we'll show you later. It's very secret, mind you! You mustn't breathe a word! Promise now!" admonished Red.

"I promise," said Justin. Then he froze and his eyes widened. "Wait a minute!" he exclaimed. His active mind had been going over everything and suddenly their names had shuffled and sorted and dealt themselves out in perfect order like a pack of cards in a Bridge game.

"So...in no particular order...your names are:

Double G.

Whiny.

the Accountant.

Red.

Vixen.

the Exterminator

And Swish Stick." He listed out. "Oh, and Kiki...of course." He added.

"That's right!" Red exclaimed and he was enfolded in a big squooshy hug. "My, you're so smart!"

"Well, yes, but...don't you get it!" Justin asked, desperately fighting back a serious case of the giggles.

They all looked at him blankly. "Uhh...Get what, sweetheart?" Lindsay asked.

Justin looked around with wide, blue eyes. Oh, Wow! Oh my! Oh dear! They didn't get it! None of them! None of them got it! And they were being so kind and sympathetic and they were going to help him when they could have just as easily thrown him back into the cold and the snow and the wolves. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't do it.

"Oh...nothing! Just...nothing! Sometimes my mind comes up with some silly ideas. But this was just...well, I guess I was feeling a little giddy. Thank you! Thank you all for helping me! I know you didn't have to! Uhhh...Kiki...why don't you show me the ropes around here!"

"Wait a minute!" cried Swish Stick, "We must think of a name for you! We should call you it all the time. If anyone were to come sniffing around here and heard there was a Justin working here...Well that just simply wouldn't do!"

"Well, that's no problem," answered Justin, "I already have a name."

"What is it?" they all cried.

"My name is Snowshine," said Justin.

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"And that was the beginning of it," finished Justin, "After a few days of Diner work and Stop Prop meetings, they realized I had excellent leadership qualities and gave me more and more responsibilities. We worked well with the GLC and organized a number of successful rallies and after a while our organization grew. The secret area we are in had to be expanded and one of the rooms is my own so, I rarely need to go out, if at all. I grew out my beard as part of my disguise so I could finally go out and contact you at last. I missed you every day. Every minute. And once I did contact you I had the hair and beard barbered into what you see before you to get it ready for you. Do you like it? Really?"

"Yes. I really do. I love it. I love you. I missed and worried about you every day. But the others...they certainly don't love me. What on earth happened to everybody? Especially Mikey?" asked Brian.

"Well, I wisely kept you close to my heart until it was time to contact you. When...and if I needed to speak of you, I always referred to you as my boyfriend. I only revealed your name to them last night. It was quite a bombshell. For one reason or another they're either uncaring or downright hostile towards you. Even Mikey, who I managed to win over eventually (somewhat) remains very temperamental and volatile. Be careful of him."

"I will," said Brian, "And they...none of them...figured out the thing about their names?"

"NO! And you mustn't tell them or mention it at all! They'd be terribly hurt! Promise!"

"All right! I promise!" said Brian.

And at that moment, there was a knock on the door.

"Snowshine!" trilled Deb`s voice, "It's time for the meeting! We're all here! Is it OK to come in!"

"Yes, Red," Justin called, "Everything's all right now! I've explained everything. Please come in."

And so, the door opened and the 7 D.W.A.R.V.E.S. entered and took their seats.

TBC


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 10

Brian's heart beat fast as one by one his former friends walked through the door. He felt the way one typically does when one has not seen friends or relatives for a long time, kind of excited and a sense of wonder about how they have changed, either for the better or the worst in your absence. He also felt a kind of dread, the way a prisoner must feel when he sees the jury coming back with a decision.

Unfortunately, they all seemed to have changed for the worse, at least where it came to him. They all marched grimly inside and stared at him with either indifference (Debbie, Emmett, Blake, Ted, and Gus) or open hostility and loathing. (Lindsay and Michael)

Double G and Vixen came in first and sat together followed by Red, Whiny, the Accountant, the Exterminator, and finally Swish Stick who had to bend a little to get in the door. They all took a seat and looked at him as if they expected him to say something but didn't really care what it was, or as I said, like something they had scraped off the bottom of their shoe.

There was a pause as Brian took in their indifference and hostility.

He cleared his throat and said: "I suppose you don't believe this, but it's really good to see you all again. Emmett, you're looking great. Ted...You too. You're so...different. What happened to you?"

Ted walked with a swagger, was bigger in the chest and arms than Brian remembered but otherwise was the same old Ted. Except that he now wore full leather, boots, jeans, chaps, skin-tight gloves, black wifebeater and a leather jacket. He wore a Muir cap on his head. Blake was dressed more conservatively but sported a black leather studded collar which Ted fingered constantly.

"Tell ya later," he said bluntly, "When a certain someone has gone back to the Playroom!"

"Awww, Uncle Ted!" whined Gus.

"Awww yourself, with bells on! Sorry little man! There are some reindeer games you're just not ready to hear about yet." He hooked a finger through Blake's collar and pulled slightly. "Right Bo – uh – Blake?

"Yes Ted," answered Blake simply.

"Where've you been Bri?" asked Emmett bluntly. He wasn't angry with him but he wasn't impressed either and he figured it would be healthy to get off this thread of conversation for the sake of Gus.

"I – I've been here...well, Pittsburgh I mean. I just outgrew Babylon...started my own company...started running in different circles. I didn't mean to lose touch, I just started working a lot. Well, OK...to be honest, I worked constantly. After a while, I just reached the stage where I figured we had all lost touch, our lives went into different directions. But I never meant to consciously ignore or abandon you!"

"Different directions indeed!" sneered Michael, "While we continued to stand up for queers and Liberty Avenue and Liberty Avenues everywhere, you sold out and became..._this!_" He gestured up and down and Brian's Armani corporate image. "Spoiled and selfish...Straight acting! A self-hating queer! A tool for the wholesome and "righteous", (he air quoted viciously) The ultimate hetero homophobic bigot!"

"No! No! It's not like that! Really, it's..." he trailed off when he realized that's exactly what it was like.

The rest of them stared at him silently except Whiny who continued to live up to his name.

"To think...We were once friends! I respected you! I idolized you! And now look at you! You make me sick!"

"Michael! That's enough!" said Justin sharply.

Michael looked resentful but he backed down and shut up.  
>"But I didn't <em>mean<em>for it to be like that!" Brian continued, "I may be straight acting but I'm NOT self hating! As for Stockwell, he was just another client, just another product to sell! But then he just became more and more evil, and wrote that disgusting Proposition 14 and nothing I could do or say would dissuade him from it! But _I_ never wrote it, I swear! I had no idea he...I mean he just...I just came in one day and there it was all typed up and ready to go and him all smug and superior. I read it and wanted to hurl! Oh God!" he cried out to a Deity he still didn't really believe in, "I didn't know what to do! I still don't! I hate him! I hate him so much! But I'm under his thumb as much as everybody else! If I ever told anybody what he's done...What he wants to do...he'd have me shot!" He put his elbows on the table and put his head into his hands. His forehead was shiny with sweat. His eyes were shiny with tears he refused to shed.

All the D.W.A.R.V.E.S could see he was in earnest and were affected in some way. Double G was a bit more trusting then the rest of them and wanted to help the handsome man who said he was his Daddy. Of course, he'd never had a Daddy before, not since Gee-Yaawmm and he was almost too young to remember him anyway. In his little boy way, he _wanted_ Brian to be in earnest so he could trust him. But the part of him that was smart knew he had to wait for everyone else as well.

Red's eyes were as shiny as Brian's and were starting to leak as well.

The Accountant and Exterminator were cold, assessing, calculating his body language, his shiny forehead and other signs that he could be faking or lying as only master analytical technicians could. At last they looked at each other.

"What do you think?" they asked at the same time.

"He is in earnest," they answered at the same time.

Swish Stick just sniffed and brought out a hankie.

"I'm not saying I believe you," said Vixen, "I still don't trust you. And I still don't want you around GusGus but if you are in earnest – and that's a pretty big IF – then you won't have any objections to telling US these terrible things. This is a closed room. If you want to join us, then you won't have any objections to trusting us and sharing what you know. Trust us and we'll trust you. But you'll have to go first."

"I agree with Mother," said Double G, "I want to trust you too but we all will need some time to adjust to how we think of you. It seems you have changed just as much as the rest of us. However..." Here he slid down from his conference chair and toddled on his little boy legs on a looooong circuit of the conference table. It took a long time. There was dead silence and all eyes in the room were fixed on him. Finally he came around to the opposite side of the table to where Brian was sitting and patted his knee signalling that he wanted to sit there. In rapturous joy, Brian lifted him up and sat him upon his lap. "However," he continued, "_I_ will decide whether or not I am to spend any time with MY Daddy! Do not forbid us, not after the Gee-Yawwwmm debacle!" He fixed defiant eyes upon Vixen's furious ones but she finally nodded and backed down.

"What happened with Guillaume?" Brian asked, "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Well, not exactly...Not in the way you mean, I mean," answered Double G, "He never hit me. In fact, it's to a point where I barely remember him. He just...ignored me. At first, it was at the dinner table or when other grown ups were around, but eventually more and more, I just wasn't there for him any more. I was treated like no more than a table lamp or one of those god awful ceramic knick-knacks that littered the rooms there. I was in the room...but inconsequential like...well like a lamp, like I said. And in some ways that hurt me more than if he'd kicked me around."

"Well, I will never ignore you," promised Brian, enfolding the boy in his large, long arms, "Or hurt you."

"Oh come on! Don't be fooled! Don't tell me you are ALL taking this all in!" Whiny cried furiously. He was the only one unaffected by Brian's declarations and considered it one big performance.

"Oh SHUT UP, WHINY!" they all yelled in unison.

Whiny pursed his lips in a straight line, and sat back in his chair, stiff backed and stiff necked. Suddenly, he could stand no more and without a word, he pushed back from the table and exited the room, slamming the door behind him.

BJBJBJBJBJBJJBJBJBJBJBJ

For a few moments there was a tense silence. Then there was a collective sigh of relief and it was as if everyone's shoulders relaxed at the same time and the atmosphere was a good deal happier as the eggshells that had been on the floor were, at last, swept away.

In spite of being relieved, Snowshine could not help the pang of guilt that swept through him as well.

"Oh dear!" he murmured, "Perhaps we pushed him a little too far! I'd better have a talk with him later."

"Bah!" said his mother, "He's given us a lot of grief and pushed at us as well! He deserves anything he's gotten! This will be a good wake up call to get in line and stop being a stupid contrarian prick!"

"Still...after all he's been through..."said Snowshine.

"But what happened? What on earth happened to him to make him this way?" cried Brian in great distress.  
>"Michael's had a hard life since you've been gone, Brian," Red explained. "He's stuck in a miserable job at the Big Q that he hates. He's never had a steady boyfriend. He got trapped in with this girl at the Big Q and...well, he needs to tell you that. He called you a straight acting, self-hating queer because that's what he's become himself. We told you...he has a lot of issues and it's apparent they revolve around you a great deal."<p>

"Me? But he hates me! He nearly killed me!"

"No Bri! He loves you! But he's MAD at you! You have to look at it from our point of view. You were best friends since you were 14! You were both party boys until one day you just never showed up at Babylon! You just stopped going! You were never home! You quit Vanguard. Your cell phone was disconnected. I don't even think you had a landline and if you did, no one knew the number. I remember he went to Babylon all night for two weeks straight in the hopes you'd show up. But you never did. After that, he stopped going as well. Well, regularly, I mean. And not for your benefit. And once that thing with...well, that's for him to tell. But eventually he stopped going altogether and his moods never really moved past angry or sad or annoyed or depressed and back to angry ever again," explained Ted.

"I remember that..." whispered Brian, "I remember that last night where I was on my way out and I thought...What for? What the hell am I doing?...And staying home that night. And then the next night...And then the next...And then...I just fell into a new routine. I bought out Vanguard that next day. Spent a lot of time after that poaching clients. I went out of town a lot so I cut off my phone. The cell was the company's so I had to give it back and get a new one. I was so busy I never even thought to give it to you guys. All that mattered was looking good and getting clients and starting my company. All that mattered...was me. My God, what a self centered bastard I was! I just forgot. I forgot about everything that wasn't in front of my nose. I forgot about all of you...about everyone. I'm so sorry!"

Everyone, even Lindsay albeit grudgingly, accepted his apology and you could feel the opinion of him in the room rise another couple of points.

Snowshine smiled one of his sun-glancing-off-the-snow brilliant smiles.

"Now you begin to see," he told everyone, "Now you see what I saw when we met and went out. He has changed. He _is_ changing." He grasped Brian's hand. "More and more you are becoming self aware. More and more you are becoming perfect. Soon you will be perfect. And you will be my Prince."

"Aren't I already?" Brian asked with a lop-sided smile that made Justin's dick twitch.

"You are my beloved," Justin answered quite seriously, "But you are not yet...ready...to be my Prince."

"What must I do?" asked Brian just as seriously.

"Continue to change. Try this apology out on Michael...and hope that will break the curse he has inflicted upon himself...and everyone else. Oh...and slay a dragon."

"A dragon huh! That's a tall order," said Brian, tongue in cheek.

"Not so tall. There is one even now, trying to become mayor."  
>"Ahhhhhh," said Brian in understanding.<p>

Ted cleared his throat. "I'm sooo sorry," he drawled, "Should we leave you two alone?"

The two jumped and snapped back to reality. Justin colored.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, "Now...where were we?"

"Brian was about to spill his guts about Stockwell so we can end this once and for all," said Ted, quite seriously.

"Oh, right...OK, Brian...you're on," said Justin.

Ted turned on a digital recorder. And hesitantly at first but then gaining momentum, Brian began to speak.

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_One__hour__later..._

With a shaking finger, Ted pressed the button on the recorder again to turn it off. It took him two tries to do it but he managed it at last.

Snowshine and the other D.W.A.R.V.E.S. were in similar states of shock, stupefaction, and horror. Brian had told them tales of corruption, greed, blackmail, murder and worse that had everybody wide eyed. Deb swore that underneath her wig, her hair had curled and considered it a miracle that her wig hair hadn't straightened.

"Now..." Brian said shakily, "Now...you understand."

"My God!" Lindsay breathed, "I mean, I thought he was just a homophobic bigot but this is so much worse. He doesn't care who he walks over! He's a monster!"

"Completely," Brian agreed.

"We've got to stop the Assh – uh, A-hole! Sorry sweetie," said Deb to Gus.

"We can't. I told you, there's no proof. He's very careful with that. He never leaves a paper trail. Not one that leads back to him anyway. He`s ruined many a man by scapegoating them. Otherwise, he has the dirty workers killed. Often he does it himself. He gets a sick kind of pleasure out of doing it."

"Like he did with Ethan," Justin mused.

Brian ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and let out a ragged sigh. He nodded.

"No. I refuse to believe it," said Justin firmly, "In all my experience with murderers and criminals, one common trait is that they always keep proof! Keepsakes. Trophies. They may be newspaper clippings. Bits of cothing. Tapes. Something. And all we have to do is find them. Exterminator...can you put a wire onto Brian? Bug him the way Stockwell tried to bug him to hear us?"

"I can," said Blake simply.

"Then, Brian, that will be your main objective. We are going to send you back out into the world, with one objective. Find those trophies, wherever they may be or get Stockwell to admit something to you. We will be listening and recording all the time."

"That is going to be harder now since he knows I have discovered him," said Brian. "Ever since his bugs were destroyed and I've been off his grid, he's not going to trust me as much as he did before."

"Nevertheless, you must try," encouraged Justin, "But in the meantime, we're going to be working on a Plan B."

"Which is?" Ted asked for the group.

"If we cannot prove anything legally, then we must destroy him politically. He must not be allowed to run unopposed any longer. This monster _can__not_be elected.

"But how?" Brian asked, "I told you what he had over Deakins. He'll never agree to run again."

"No, that's true. I had something else in mind. Another candidate must arise, one who he cannot reach, one who he cannot blackmail. It's time I came out of hiding. I will do it. I will join the race and run against Stockwell."

TBC


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

A/N: OK It's been 15 days between posting but I'm back. The tempo in this story is just crawling along and I have no idea how long it's going to be. This chapter was very emotional and hard to write. Writer's block abounded. I hope I did an OK job, I'm still not sure but this is what happened.

Warning: Brief Brian/Michael pairing. You'll see. Don't freak, everything will be all right. Please read and REVIEW! Was it good? Horrible? Devastating? Not? Let me know. At 7 reviews, I'm not sure….what this story is. Let me know. Anyway, on with the show, this is it!

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 11

There was a short stunned silence and then a loud clamour as everyone began talking at once. A great deal was said but before Snowshine could quiet things down, the gist of it all was:

"You must not do this! It's entirely too dangerous!" protested Double G.

"Agreed!" voiced his mother and father.

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me! Christ, Snowshine, there's no fuckin' way!" screeched Debbie.

"I don't see how this can be fiscally possible," Ted said.  
>"What about Stockwell? If you surface he'll just levy those charges against you," reminded Blake.<br>"Sweetie, you know, I'll support you in anything you put your mind to doing!" sniffed Swish Stick tearfully, "But as my Aunt Lula used to say, Even the hog has enough sense to run away from the butcher!"

Snowshine listened to everything carefully but at last he rapped on the table for order.

"Look, I understand your concerns but I've been giving this a lot of thought for a while now. You've all been wonderful but you can't protect me forever! I can't stay down here forever like some rabbit in a burrow. Stockwell MUST be defeated and I'm the only one who can run. Double G is too young, Michael is...well, Michael, Vixen, you're busy enough with operations and looking after Double G, Brian, I need you close to the enemy, and the rest of you, well, frankly put, you're all to oddball to run as candidates. It has to be me."

"Hey! Who are you calling oddball!" Swish Stick said indignantly...and swishily.

Everyone ignored him. They knew Snowshine was right.

"And besides," he said to mollify them, "For this to work, I'm going to need all you to help me with your special talents. Double G, I'll need you to run logistics and be on hand to advise me...when it's not past your bedtime, that is. Vixen, I'll need you to help him and take his place when it IS past bedtime. Red, I'll need you as lookout and recon topside. Also to be in charge of spreading the flyers and posters that will soon be everywhere.

"As for finances, well, we'll just switch operations from smearing Stockwell to running for mayor. We won't have any more funds than we already do but we won't have any less either. Accountant, we'll need your wizardry of the accounts to help us in that department and even fund raising ideas. Exterminator, I want you to be in charge of designing the website where I can post my messages. As for safety, well, until it is safe, I've thought of that too. I'm going to run the very first political campaign that is run entirely from media sources. Internet, TV spots, flyers, posters. My face will be everywhere and yet in person, nowhere at all."  
>Everyone was very impressed and interested at this idea.<p>

"And what about me, Snowshine?" asked Swish Stick excitedly.

Justin looked over at the flamboyant man fondly and thought quickly. "I need you to be in charge of my wardrobe. The set dressing that will be behind me as I give my speeches. And some catering, to feed us hungry troops! Do you think you can handle that?"

"Can I! Honey, you just wait and see!" enthused Swish Stick.

"Wait! What about Whiny?" asked Red suddenly.

"What about him?" several voices said.

Snowshine rapped for order. "All right! That's quite enough of that. Michael is still one of us and has been loyal to us and the cause...up till now and I think it's about time we mend fences with him before he gets it into his head to change that. First of all, I think the time has come for us to stop calling him that. We'll find another code name for him to use. And depending on whether or not we can mend fences with him, I will find him something to do. Speaking of which, I think the time has come to go after him and talk with him and adjourn the meeting for now. All in favor?"

All agreed and the conference broke up. Vixen and Double G went to tell the troops of the change in focus and the rest dispersed to their different stations.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

They found Michael upstairs alone in a booth looking out at the snowy street and sucking morosely at an ice cream float.

Brian and Justin slid in opposite him without asking. They knew they would not be invited.

"Michael, we're sorry about what happened down there," said Justin.

Michael ignored them.

They waited.

At last, Michael turned his neck to face forward. He looked at them with soulless dead eyes. Justin started a little. It would have been better if they had blazed with fury or hate or something but this...this was...nothing. These were the eyes of someone who had given up. Given up fighting, given up hope, given up caring. These were the eyes of a man who despised life and everyone in it so much he was preparing to bite the bullets that were even now sitting within his shoulder holster.

"Michael? Who's this Michael?" he sneered sarcastically, "Don't you mean...WHINY!" he rasped, wincing a little that indeed, even that, sounded a little whiny. Nevertheless, he carried on. "Anyway, I'm through answering to both names where you two are concerned. I don't want to have anything to do with you ever again. Leave me alone."

"We don't want you to answer to that name anymore Michael. We discussed it after you left and decided that it was high time for you to be given a new code name. No-one will call you Whiny again and if anyone does, you are to come straight to me and report it. I will set them straight. But that means doing your part as well. No fighting, no shooting or threatening anyone who upsets you with that name. You must come straight to me. Do we have a deal?"

Michael's dead eyes sparked with a flicker of lust and angry hope. "A new name? Really?"

"Yes, really. But you must do your part, Michael."

"I can do my part, never fear. But what will YOU do, Justin? What happens if someone calls me by...THAT NAME...and I do come around to you? A slap on the wrist, rubber stamp, next in line, thank you very much, Bob's your uncle...is that what I have to look forward to?"

"No Michael, the penalty shall be harsh. Say...they will be let go from service and banned from the Diner for say...two weeks. Is that acceptable?"

"Justin!" Brian was horrified.

"No, Brian," Justin said firmly, "I want this thing nipped in the bud. Time is short and precious and so I must be swift in all things. Michael...do we have a deal?"

A small, cruel smile curved on Michael's mouth. "We have a deal," he agreed in a voice that was as cruel as his smile. "Now...if there's nothing else...go away."

"Actually, there is something else," Justin said, "We are at war, Michael. We can no longer be a house divided. It is past time for us to clear the air, find the root of your bitterness and destroy it. You must at last tell us what is making you so angry, so vindictive. You have to learn how to open up and..."

"DON'T YOU THINK I'VE TRIED!" Michael erupted like a volcano. "Over and over! But every time I tried, nobody listened! It was...Stop your whining, Michael!...Shut up, Whiny!...We're busy, Michael! Suck it up!...Don't be so Whiny, Michael! And then that hateful name! So I sucked it up! I shut up! My problems became my own! And still that hateful name continued! And then...and then...you had the BALLS to bring HIM back here into my face!" Here he pointed a furious finger at Brian as if he were pointing at Stockwell himself. "You want to know the root of my bitterness! Fine! He sits beside you!"

Michael's furious face was red and blotchy as he pointed an accusing finger straight at Brian's shocked and whitened one.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

"Now Michael, that's not fair! You can't go around blaming other people for..." Justin started.

But Brian saw the way Michael's face blackened with fury and began to shut down even before Justin finished the sentence. He realized that Michael must have heard that refrain all his life just before people stopped listening to him.

He raised his arm to stop Justin and said, "No, Justin. I want to hear this. I want to know what made him like this. Michael, for God's sake, what did I DO...to make you so angry...to turn you into..._THIS!__"_

Michael's fury subsided a little now that he was being allowed to talk and was replaced with a kind of "My God, I don't fuckin' believe this kind of look and he peered carefully into Brian's eyes.

"My God, You really don't remember do you? Do you even remember the last words you even spoke to me?"

"No, not really."

"You inconsiderate prick! And after you left us forever, did you have a slightest glimmer of regret of tossing us aside...in the six years you have been gone did you miss me at all, did you even think upon me once, in some small way?"

"Of course, Michael! Well...not a first, I must admit. I was too busy working, thinking about image, myself, money. I guess I was about 4 years ago and two years after I lost touch that I though back on you...on you all...and wondered how you fared. How you were. But I had grown up too much...grown too far apart. You know how these things are...you were my past...I was looking to the future...I just figured you guys had moved on without me too."

"You selfish p –" And then, as if realizing calling Brian names would accomplish nothing (which was the case) Michael took a deep breath, pinched the bridge of his nose, and began again.

"You know what...I don't blame you for forgetting the last thing you said to me. It was inconsequential. But I remember, for it was the last time I ever saw you again. You said, "Well, it's gettin' late! I gotta get up early tomorrow. See ya tomorrow, Mikey!" And then you leaned over and kissed me, soft at first but longer than necessary and on a whim, I made the kiss deeper. We frenched in that way we did sometimes and I made up my mind to talk to you about that the next night, to tell you that I wanted to do that again. And again. And again."The remembered lust was thick in his voice. "And so I waited the next day. But you never came! I came to Babylon for a whole week straight waiting, longing for you. But you never came again. Not ever."

"I explained that," Brian said defensively.

"ONE HOUR AGO!" Michael roared in fury and Brian quailed under it. "After six years of silence you _finally_ deigned us with your presence and an explanation. After you disappeared, I thought you were missing. I thought you were hurt! I called the hospitals. Nothing. I called you. Nothing. No voicemail message was ever returned. I thought about filing a missing person report but what was I supposed to say? Oh, Officer, my Boyfriend has stopped coming to the gay nightclub where he comes every night to plow every gay man in the city except me! I would have been laughed out of the station and/or gay bashed to boot! I was...I AM working at the Big Q and had no money for a private eye. For a year, I mourned you as one dead until one day I walked past a newsstand and saw a Forbes...and a GQ and there you were, as large as life and twice as rich, founder of Kinnetic, a rising star in advertising, intent on taking over the world!"

"I remember those interviews," murmured Brian nostalgically.

"So do I," Michael said grimly, "That was when my sorrow turned into a fierce _hate_ as I realized you had simply thrown us away like garbage, like a filthy used condom, without a second thought, without an ounce of remorse!"

"Michael, NO! That isn't true!"

"Isn't it? Are you sure? And even if it wasn't, how was I supposed to know that! All I knew is that you'd vanished and when you finally resurfaced you were the Trump of Advertising! And I was just still one of the little people! An insignificant cog working in a department store that your Armani sensibilities would not have let you set foot in any more than one of us wants to use a porta-potty! If I had called you up, would you have taken my call? Would you have even remembered who I was!"

"Of course I would have remembered! I would! It might have taken a while to get to you, but I would have talked to you!"  
>Michael just looked at him disbelievingly.<p>

"So there I was...I was nearing thirty...I'd lost my best friend and my love all in one fell swoop." He closed his eyes remembering. "I was in a wretched job where everyone was rabidly homophobic. I started a friendship with a co-worker named Tracy. Nothing happened but within a week everyone assumed we were lovers. Then a promotion came up and the manager threw a party to choose who would get it. He told me to bring "my lady". I panicked. I had no boyfriend OR girlfriend. My mother would have gone off on PFLAG rant. I had no one to talk to. I was alone. So in desperation, I asked Tracy. Now everyone was positive we were boyfriend/girlfriend. Even she thought it a little. And I got the promotion."

"More time passed. I turned 30. She came to my party as my girlfriend. She had built it up in her own mind so much I didn't have the heart to tell her I felt nothing. About this time, Emmett had some sort of health scare, a broken condom or something and when his result came back HIV negative he started going to this conversion group called See the Light. I decided to try going with him. I thought if I could feel something...anything for Tracy it would make the Big Q...and our relationship a little more bearable. Emmett gave up on the group because Ted talked him out of it and he was weak. But I knew all that was needed was to stick it out...To be strong. And that's when I realized..." His voice petered out to a whisper and he paused.

"What? What happened Michael?" Brian was on pins and needles. He was feeling a kind of fascinated horror. He felt as if he were stuck in some sort of nightmare from which he could not wake.

Michael's eyes popped open. "YOU! It was YOU! You were the one who had made me gay! Ever since we were 14 and we made out. And then we jacked off to that Patrick Swayze picture. That was YOUR perversion...your fetish. I realized I just had chosen to go along with you and convinced myself I was in love with you. I was straight. I AM straight. So I married Tracy and there was another promotion party. Now I was regional manager which made Tracy happier but for me it just meant less time out on the floor and more paperwork and now all the homophobic bigots called me Sir."

"Oh, Michael...You don't really believe that do be true, do you?" Brian asked in disbelief...and then consternation. He did.

"Michael, that isn't true! First of all, think back to that night! YOU were the one with the crush on Patrick Swayze! Besides, one of the biggest lies that the heteroes want to believe is that you can choose to be gay! You can't choose that Michael. No one can _make_ you gay! If you were straight and didn't want to go to Babylon, you wouldn't have!"

"No! No...you pressured me! Sometimes you kidnapped me!" Michael said brokenly.

"Oh yeah!" Brian thought back nostalgically. Then he snapped out of it. "Michael those were pranks...Jokes, to get you out of the house...to get you away from Debbie and prevent you from becoming a Mama's boy! They weren't serious kidnappings! Surely, you know that! Surely, you remember!"

"I remember everything perfectly!" Michael answered viciously.

"If you are so straight, why do you still consider your co-workers homophobic bigots?" Justin asked mildly.

"I – I – well, because I..."

"Hey, yeah!" Brian agreed trying to force the wedge deeper into their brainwashing, "If you were so straight, why would you care if anyone was a homophobic bigot or not? Not to mention, you're sounding like one yourself!"

"No! No! I'm not! Besides I had my mother screaming into my ear the other half of the time! Besides I don't care! I only said all that because...because..."

"Yeeeeees?" Brian asked smugly.

"Because...because...because...SHUT UP, that's why!" Michael fairly screamed.

Brian just held his head in his hands and shook his head in despair and distress. That goddam group had fucked with his brain and he was completely in denial. More and more this was a fucking nightmare.

"And what happened to Tracy?" Justin's gentle voice cut in, half in reminder. He knew exactly what happened to Tracy.

"We were divorced a year later. There's been no one else since then. You know that." Michael's voice was sulky.

"And why were you divorced?" Justin pressed relentlessly.

"Lack of intimacy," Michael mumbled reluctantly. "She couldn't stand it anymore and ran off with some rugby player."

"Lack of intimacy?" repeated Brian, his head popping up again."

"Did I stutter!" Michael growled. "Yeah! So what!"

"So...So, that proves it right there, Michael! You _couldn__'__t_ be intimate...or intimate enough with her because you couldn't feel those feelings! Because you're gay, Michael! You've been my best friend since I was 14 years old and I loved you ever since then! I know you! I know you like I know myself! And I know you are gay and I know you didn't choose it! You can't choose it!"

"NO! That's not true! That can't be true!" Michael yelled, holding his head. He closed his eyes and held his head. "AHHHH! You're giving me one of my headaches!"

"It IS true! Brian yelled back. "I loved you then! I love you now!"

Michael's eyes flew open. "LIAR!" he roared, "YOU NEVER LOVED ME! NIGHT AFTER NIGHT WE WENT TO BABYLON AND NIGHT AFTER NIGHT YOU CHOSE SOMEBODY ELSE, A DIFFERENT PERSON EVERY NIGHT! IF YOU _LOOOOVED_ ME SO MUCH, WHY WOULDN'T YOU FUCK ME!" He broke down sobbing.

"I didn't fuck you _because_ I loved you. I fucked the guys I did, one time, you know my policy. I didn't love them. I didn't want to know them. I didn't want to see them again. If I'd fucked you, our friendship would have been over and I wanted you around. I wanted you around forever."

"LIAR! Stop LYING to me! If you'd wanted me around forever, you wouldn't have left! You would have made me yours! You would have realized...realized...OWWWW!" He grasped his forehead in pain and winced.

Suddenly he wiped his leaking eyes and sat up. "It doesn't matter," he said in a strange, wooden voice, "It doesn't matter now. I've seen the light. I'm straight now."

He got up. "We're done here. I'll give you my new name in a few days. He turned and started to walk out.

Brian struggled to get out of the booth. "Things are going to get a little freaky in the next couple of minutes," he whispered to Justin. "Whatever happens...know that I love, truly love only you."

Then he straightened and yelled, "Like hell we are! Hold it right there!"

Against his will, Michael responded to the authoritative tone and paused. Brian took advantage of that and strode masterfully over to Michael and grabbed his arm and spun him around.

"We're NOT done! We'll never be done! You think I'm lying! Well, take this, straight boy!" Brian snaked one arm around his waist, threaded his other hand in Michael's hair and kissed him long and deep. He bent him back, in a deep dip, right there in the middle of the Diner.

Michael struggled, screamed against Brian's mouth, spasmed, and collapsed. His eyes opened wide and fluttered closed. A wave of emotions that he had not felt, not allowed himself to feel in six years coursed through his body. Lust, heat, pleasure, the likes of which he had never felt with Tracy. His entire body and mind went limp. Except for his cock, which swelled to a painful erection in seconds. And still the kiss went on and on. Brian's tongue was large and soft from years of drinking Jim Beam and Michael sucked at it greedily. At last Brian began to pull away and end the kiss. He raised up and looked at Michael. He smoothed back his sweaty, curly locks a little worriedly.

"Michael? You OK?" he asked.

Michael lay there in his arms as if he were sleeping, Then his eyes fluttered, opened, focused. He looked at Brian as if he had awoken from a long sleep.

"Yes...I think so," he said, "Are you?"

"Good. Can you come back to the table? We need to finish talking," Brian stood then both up and began to disentangle himself.

But Michael would have none of it. "Oh no, you don't!" he cried, "Not again! Not this time! I won't let you pull away from me again!"

And he pulled Brian back against him, crotch to crotch, stomach to stomach, chest to chest. He reached up and threaded his hands through Brian's hair and pulled his head down and returned the favor, kissing Brian in the forceful, aggressive way that matched the persona that he had become. Brian opened to Michael's questing tongue and his mouth was not just frenched, it was plundered as thoroughly as if it were being invaded by a Viking. For six long years, Michael had been waiting for this kiss. He'd longed for it, repressed the longing with sadness, anger, violence, hate, alcohol and religion. But nothing had worked. Nothing could compare with the pure bliss of being able to finally, _finally_ express the love that he was going to express the night that Brian had disappeared. No. Bliss was not enough to describe this. Euphoria. Intoxication. Completion.

Yes, at long last he was complete. He had closure. After six long years of wondering what _might __have __been_, Michael was able to know what would be. He loved Brian. He _would_ have loved Brian, with all his heart and soul. But he realized that the Brian of the past had no heart or soul and would not have been able to return the favor. And the Brian of the present had at last gained that which he did not have but they now belonged to another. And Michael had gotten to know Justin quite well and knew that Brian would be in good hands.

Michael eased off the kiss slowly, gave Brian's tongue one last taste, nipped his bottom lip, and sipped his lips before at last breaking off and releasing him.

Brian stood there, swaying a little, completely shell shocked. "Michael! I mean, how? Wow! That was amazing! Incredible! I didn't know you could kiss like that!"

"It is the kiss I wanted to give you that night you did not come back. For six long years, I have been waiting to let you know how I felt, what I wanted from you. I know, I know, "he said, interpreting what Brian was going to say next, "I know I cannot have that now. I know you do not love me. I'm just so happy that you've moved on from that one fuck a night stage and have found a good man to love. I know Justin will take good care of you."

"But Michael…"

"Thanks for letting me get that out of my system. You were right. I'm not straight. That felt…felt…fantastic! I haven't felt anything like that in 4 years…well, I don't think I've felt anything! Nothing good anyway. I know you guys hate me and I don't blame you. I just hope I didn't screw things up with Justin. Maybe I should go…should I go? Yah, I'm gonna…" He released Brian and turned to go.

"MICHAEL! Will you stop being such a twat and shut up!" Michael felt himself grabbed and turned again and Brian's lips crashed down on his hard but not as passionately this time, more like the old days. Michael closed his eyes and let a hundred memories flood through him. Oh! How could he have forgotten some of those times!

When Brian pulled away again, his gaze was amused but steely, "Geez, you and Justin could compete in a Biggest Princess of the Land contest!"

"Hey! I heard that!" came a voice in the background. Brian ignored it.

"Now will you _shut__up_and come back to the table! I have something to say to you!" And manhandling him, Brian guided Michael back to the table and Michael could not resist. He still felt a little woozy and heavy from the whole erotic experience and although he'd never admit it (yet) he secretly loved Brian's strong, take charge way and his strong hands all over him, guiding him, supporting him.

Brian sat Michael down and slid in after him. He reached across the table and grabbed Justin's hand.

"Michael, I want you to listen to me! Nobody hates you! We love you! All of us! I love you! I'm sorry I had to do that but I needed to do something drastic to keep you from leaving! And it seems to have snapped you out of that wretched brainwashing that group imposed on you so I'm not sorry! And besides that, I do love you. So does Justin. But you see…"

"Brian, you're not offering some kind of kinky three way are you! Cause there's no way! I may not have had a boyfriend…or girlfriend in a long time but there are still things that I just won't do!"

Brian burst into happy tears of relief and hugged Michael hard. "Oh there he is! There's the queer I know and love! Oh I can't tell you how much I missed you over the years!"

"Then he pulled back and assured him, "No Michael, this is not a come on! What I mean is, I love you…differently. Justin's my lover. I'm _in__ love_ with him. He's my Prince."

Justin grabbed Brian's hand again. He pressed it against his cheek and leaned into it. Brian stroked his cheek with a thumb. Justin was overcome with a joy that knew no bounds. He couldn't speak.

"But Mikey, you've been my friend since I was 14. I love you and want you in my life forever, now more than ever. You're my friend. You always have been, and I never hated you, not even when you jammed that gun into my back the first moment we met again. I was worried, and worried about you, but I never hated you. I'm in love with Justin…but I love you too. Just a different kind. Understand now?"

"Yes. Yes I think I do. And now that I've got that kiss out of my system, I think I can let you go now. I can move on and find my own Prince."

"We'll do everything we can to help you in that department, Michael…Count on it," said Justin.

Brian and Michael embraced in joy one more time. Then Michael said, "Brian…when you leave again…"

"I'm not going anywhere, buddy," Brian promised.

"NO!" Michael said forcefully and for the first time since his evil spell had been broken he sounded like his old self again. "No! You can't promise that! Nobody can! And besides…You and Justin will one day..well…fuck off…and I won't see you as often or who knows…ever. Just promise me…If you…when you leave again…at least this time say good-bye first."

Tears pricked at Brian's eyes and he grabbed Michael into another hug so he wouldn't see them. He stroked his soft, tight, curly hair. He'd almost forgotten what it had felt like, like trying to remember a dream of a dream while sleeping for a hundred years. That curly hair felt fantastic. _Mikey _felt fantastic, especially now that he wasn't all tensed up with anger and hate and pain.

"_If_ I do…I promise. Silly twat," said Brian.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

Some time later, after the love-fest had died down, Justin got back to business.

They sat together, Brian and Mikey together, with Mikey's arm around Brian's waist as if it were a life preserver. Brian and Justin still held hands across the table, a trio united.

"Michael, there are still a few things I need to let you know about and something I want to ask you...if you still want to work with us. Now that we're all back on the same page do you want to continue working with us, or walk away? Make up your mind now, for as I said, time is short."

"If you are earnest in allowing me to change my code name, then I will stay," Michael answered.

"Done. OK, first, Brian told us a lot of horror stories about Stockwell that you need to hear. Ted recorded them and you can ask him to replay them for you at your leisure. Second, it has been decided that Stockwell cannot be allowed to run unopposed any longer. I have decided to run for mayor against him."

"_What!_ How? You'll be arrested! Captured!"

Justin held up a hand and quickly explained. When he was done, Michael was grudgingly impressed.

"Everyone is doing their part by using their own special strengths and talents. We came to ask for your help too."

Michael grew suspicious and his old nature reared its ugly head. He narrowed his eyes, his body tensed and he asked, "Doing what?"

"A job I picked out just for you. Something that you'd be most suited for, I promise."  
>"Oh really! Is that so? What is it? Stuffing envelopes? Carrying them to the post office like your personal pack mule! Being Gus' assistant?"<p>

"Michael! What is wrong!" Justin asked in alarm.

"Nothing! For the first time, nothing's wrong! And I'm going to make sure it stays that way! I'm not going to let you turn me into some kind of flunky where everyone gets to take credit for MY work and then gets their rocks off by calling me Whiny when I ask for a little recognition! Oh no! Not again!"

"Michael, that's not the case! I have something very important for you. If you accept."

"SUUUURRRE you do!" Michael drawled sarcastically, "What is it? Stamp licker? Poster roller? Bathroom attendant?"

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," murmured Justin.

"OHHH NO! By all means... enlighten me with this _esteemed_ position," Michael said sarcastically. By this time, he'd worked himself up into a real state.

"Tell him Justin, he'll feel silly afterward," Brian urged.

"I was going to ask you to be my campaign manager," Justin said quietly.

"OH NO! I don't care if you want…..wait…WHAT!"

TBC


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever. Also a cautionary disclaimer to the real YOU Tube who is the real deal and I receive no monetary whatnot either way for the inclusion of the fictional YU Tube. Not so fictional Twitter is also mentioned but no money is involved or copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Just checked the chapter and they edited out the _fictional _website addy. So for give the edits that hopefully will allow you to see it. Also, my last (and only) review addressed the issue of how could Snowsine have registered for mayor if he is a wanted man. So I made up a scene that covered that in what is probably a very unrealistic manner. To those who might object I ask you to remember two things: 1: This IS a QAF FAIRY TALE and 2: I'm RIDICULOUS!

OK..And now...

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 12

Three days later:

It was exactly 7:00 AM when the first flake fell. It was right in the middle of rush hour and the streets were heavy with traffic and pedestrian commuters were on their way to work.

At least, that's what the people thought for the first few seconds. But this flake was too large to be a snowflake but it flapped and flipped and turned in the wind as it fluttered slowly to the ground in exactly the same way.

A few more papers fluttered and flew along in the winter wind. Someone picked one up.

And the next moment, the air was full of papers, flying and falling and turning in the air as thick as real snowflakes. Everybody gasped as they witnessed this phenomenon and they grabbed for one to see who would be doing such a thing. A few looked up to try to see who would be doing this but this was downtown Pittsburgh and tall buildings abounded. There was no way to tell where they were coming from.

The papers were round, small, about the size of notepad papers and holes had been punched through them at random to let the air blow through them and therefore carry them farther along than they would have if they had just fell. As well, if they were dropped again by people who didn't want them (as with many, this was the case) they were more liable to pick themselves up and blow along some more.

The papers read:

www . snowshine .org

VOTE SNOWSHINE FOR MAYOR

EQUALITY, JUSTICE, TOLERANCE, CHANGE

STOP PROP 14

VOTE SNOWSHINE

www . snowshine .org

The paper blizzard blew along the length of the thoroughfare for 15 minutes and then stopped as suddenly as it had started. The papers were blown everywhere. They flew around corners, flew down side streets, up the walls of buildings and were sucked into vents, trapped in doorways, and stuck in bike wheel spokes. A few blew into an open manhole and a few minutes later a sewer worker poked his head out like a curious rabbit and squinted at the paper and then marvelled at the faux storm. More than a few were spiked upon tree branches that quested up towards the sky, left bare by Jack Frost, that evil imp who is the slave of the Great and Terrible Ice King. Those ones could never be recovered but served as a constant and gentle reminder of those that could...and even then, some were blown free to begin a new journey again.

As it is with all things, not all the snowflakes were picked up. Some were cruelly crumpled and throw away so they could never fly again by apathetic people or outright hostiles who were Stockwell supporters. Some, were let go again to glide away on the wind on a new journey, but not before the person had secretly memorized the website address. And still others were picked up, read, read again, and then tucked into bosoms, crotches, and pockets.

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At 12 noon, in another part of the downtown area, part of which was the Police station where Stockwell hung his hat, the paper blizzard started again.

Stockwell had missed the first volley in the morning as he was such a ramrod, straight arrow, control freak that at 7:00 he was already at work, at his desk and hunched over his paperwork far away from the first "snowfall".

He would have missed this one too, as he was manically hunched over his desk facing away from the window going through his stack of paperwork. His eyes were shiny with rabid fanaticism.  
>At precisely 12:02 PM his secretary burst into his office.<p>

"Oh Sir! Sir! It`s happening again! Oh, isn`t it wonderful!"

Stockwell was so absorbed that he started a little and blinked a few times as if awaking from a pleasant dream. In fact this was the case as he daydreamed almost constantly about being mayor now that the road was paved clear.

"How dare you disturb me! What the hell are you taking about?"  
>"Oh, but Sir! I felt sure you'd want to know! Didn't you see it this morning? Wasn't it beautiful?"<p>

Stockwell stood up in his tallest and most intimidating pose and put his hands on his hips. "Miss Simmons, what the HELL are you talking about! I didn't see anything this morning! You have three seconds to explain before your paycheck is replaced with a PINK SLIP!" he screamed at his blond, curly haired, pleasingly plump secretary.

The plump secretary cowered before her boss and tried to apologize. "Oh, Sir! I'm so sorry! I thought you knew! It's all over Twitter and Yu Tube by now and...and I was sure you saw this morning...well...well...just turn around! Out the window!"

Stockwell did and screamed like a pig getting its throat cut. He was incoherent with rage.

"LITTER! FILTH! GARBAGE! A MILLION LITTER VIOLATIONS RIGHT THERE! WHO'S DOING THIS! WHERE'S IT COMING FROM!"

"Uhh, nobody knows, Sir!" quavered Miss Simmons, "They're flying around in the wind so much, there's no way to tell where they're coming from."

"Don't just stand there! Get down there and get one of those...those...things! I want one of those things in my hand in 5 minutes or you and five other people, I don't like the look of...WILL BE **FIRED**!"

Miss Simmons scurried off.

Five minutes later, he was staring at a snowflake, a vein in his temple throbbing. With shaking fingers he punched in the website address.

His face grew red...and then deeper red and then an interesting shade of purple. As it did, making no sudden movements, Miss Simmons backed up slowly, step by step, out of the room.

"!" Stockwell began to scream a raging, tantrum scream, all one breath that went on and on. A paperweight hit the wall near the right of the door, narrowly missing Miss Simmons. She slipped the rest of the way through quickly before her boss could throw something else at her and this time, not miss.

She clicked the door shut and his scream was cut off abruptly. Miss Simmons breathed a sigh of relief and took a minute for a breather. She thanked her stars that she had soundproofed her boss' office a few years ago (on his dime of course). Privacy, morale, peace of mind. Some things didn't have a price tag.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJJBJBJ

A young and handsome collegian walked into a coffeehouse and bought a coffee and a Danish. He went over to a table and booted up his laptop. He put earbuds in his ears and plugged those into the machine. When it was ready he clicked on his browser.

Furtively he glanced around. He hunched over his machine and double checked his ports. No loose connections. Good.

CLUMP! CLUMP! CLUMP! Two policemen marched past as forbidding as Gestapo although not quite as stiff legged.

The young collegian man flinched and hunched further as if he were on the run. Who knows? The way the police were acting, he might as well be.

After they were past, the young man quickly punched in the web address he had memorized before letting the paper go to fly away to spread its message to another person. He pressed Enter.  
>.org was fairly simple. A few links along the side. And dominating the site was a video that immediately started when you entered the site. A young man with blue eyes, white hair, and a white goatee wearing a white suit and a sky-blue tie stood before him.<p>

"Hello. Welcome to www dot snowshine dot org. If you have come to this site, then you know what I want. My name is Snowshine and I want to be your next mayor. Due to circumstances beyond my control I cannot use my real name or appear in public and so I am going to run the first ever internet slash media based campaign. And, with your vote, I am going to win."

"As you may know, Chief Stockwell is currently running unopposed. He has done everything he could to make that happen. Currently, you have no choice. This is not democracy. This is dictatorship. And so, as a concerned citizen and a former police officer, I am stepping up to fill the void. I will be your other choice."

"Although I am unknown to many of you, do not worry. I am not unknown to my running mate and enemy." He waved. "Hello Chief Stockwell. I bet you were hoping I was in that car that exploded, taking my partner with it. Sorry, no such luck."

He returned to his speech. "According to Stockwell, his platform of Proposition 14 will bring about more freedoms, lower taxes and safer streets. However, this is only true if you are rich and heterosexual. The only version released to the public by Stockwell's campaign has been drastically edited and sanitized. The lower taxes he offers are made possible by raising the taxes of anyone professing to be homosexual. The safer streets and freedoms come at the expense of the homosexual community whose freedoms will be cut back to the point where they will have a virtual curfew. A full, unedited version of Proposition 14 is available at the link to your right. Please read it in its entirety and then e mail it to as many Pittsburgh citizens and voters as you can. Thank you."

"If you have seen my snowflake flyer, then you know my own platform in a nutshell as well. Equality for all, black, white, man, woman, gay and straight. Equal salary, equal taxes, equal treatment for all. Justice. I promise to root out any corruption in the police force of which I know from personal experience is abundant. My dream is to return our law enforcement system to its former glory. This would involve the immediate resignation and replacement of Chief Jim Stockwell. Tolerance of all races, creeds, and sexual orientations by those who still are unable to agree on these issues. Look folks, this is Pittsburgh, not Utopia. There will still be bible thumping, demon-seeing, extremist Christians, or just those of you who are homophobic in some way. But the gay and lesbian community is not going anywhere either. In every country, in every race there are born into them homosexuals back down through the dawn of time. Why do you think Leviticus spoke against homosexuality in the first place? Because, even then, even there, there _were_homosexuals! But I digress. My point is, even if you cannot agree with another's orientation, political view, race, religious view, whatever, if I'm elected I ask that you simply leave them be, just tolerate them. After all, in more ways than you might guess, _they_ are tolerating you."

"In these ways, I hope to change the city we live in, from a normal, humdrum city into a shining jewel, a beacon by which other cities, states, and then, perhaps, the country can look to as an example, a blueprint of hope by which others can follow our example and change, making this world a better place."

This Election Day, Vote for Change. Vote Snowshine! Thank you."

The video ended.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

The burly collegian male clicked onto the link that brought up Prop 14 in its entirety. He read for a moment and then gasped in outrage. _This_ was Proposition 14! This was an absolute nightmare! This was akin to the bigoted happenings against the blacks in the 50's and to the Jews in WW II! The only thing missing were the ovens!

The collegian did as Snowshine had asked, wrote a short letter that was as non-spammy as possible and attached Prop 14 and hit Send All.

Then he wrote a short e mail to the site showing his moral support and that he had his vote. If there was anything he could do (non financially, due to the poor economy, he was also extremely poor) to let him know.

Nearly immediately he received a reply: Liberty Diner. Talk to Red. To show you want to volunteer I D yourself by working Big bad wolf into your order somehow.

That was all. The collegian smiled. He closed his laptop and left.

As he walked along he heard other laptops along the way and heard quite frequently: welcome to .org... Due to circumstances beyond my control...Stop Prop 14...Vote for Snowshine!

The hunky collegian smiled wider. The message was spreading. It was spreading and he could tell that soon, nothing would be able to stop it.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

Ding-a-ling!

The door to the Liberty Diner opened and Michael strode in. He wore a contented smile and a smart suit with a white shirt, charcoal black slacks and blazer and a red tie. His step was confident and his shoulders were straight and tall and he exuded an air of confidence that he had not shown for many a year.

Being Snowshine`s campaign manager definitely agreed with Michael. It gave him sense of purpose and a new meaning in life. And it turned out he liked being in charge and he was _good_ at it too. And since the tables were turned so to speak, that is instead of constantly needing and trying and wanting to get others approval and attention, he now had everyone vying for his attention and approval and counting it lucky if he gave it to them. He wasn`t a flunky anymore, he was in charge and he liked it. And he was never going back! Best of all, nobody called him Whiny anymore thanks to Snowshine`s harsh penalty which had been circulated a short time after he had accepted the position. And yesterday, he had chosen his new name. It filled him with warmth and happiness and boosted his ego whenever it was used. He felt reborn and he loved his new life.

He passed his gaze over the diner and sighed in contentment. The place was packed and it hummed with the sound of mixed conversations. Then his eye fell upon a lone customer in a booth and his breath caught in his throat. The guy was gorgeous!

The "guy" was in his mid to late 30's, with a wide, gym built bod, huge arms and otherwise built like brick shithouse. He wore an orange sweater, a worn, brown leather jacket and jeans. His face was masculine but not overly butch or mean. He was clean shaven and his face was careworn with a few wrinkles but was still extremely handsome. He wore wire rimmed glasses. The guy looked a little nervous and held a menu close to his face as if for protection.

On impulse, Michael went up to him and asked, "Hi there! Can I take your order?"

The gorgeous man started and looked Michael up and down. "Do you work here?" he asked curiously, "I mean...well, you're not dressed like a waiter."

"Well, no, I guess you got me there. But my Ma's head server here and I picked up everything from her. I can take your order and pass it on to her. Beats waiting around, don't it?"

"Hmmm, I guess so. But I –..." the man looked around furtively, "I was kinda hoping to talk to Red."

"Oh. Well, that's definitely OK! Red is my Ma. Anything you wanted to say, you can tell me as well."

"Oh, I see. Well, I guess I was going to get something. I guess a cheeseburger. And a coke."

Michael made a note of that in a small notebook that was now perennially in his breast pocket. Not a waiter's one, just a notepad)

"So, I guess I was going to ask...That burger is all beef right? There wouldn't be any...big bad wolf in it?"

Michael smiled. "Ahhh. Not to worry Sir. All our burgers are 100% beef. I'll give your order to Red right away. And don't worry sir, our kitchen is very clean. We have an Exterminator on hand." At the same time, he was writing furiously on a second piece of paper. At last he finished and ripped it off. He sat down across from the man and slid the paper over to him.

The man read: WELCOME. WE'LL NEED TO SWEEP YOU FOR BUGS BEFORE WE CONTINUE. YOU'RE A HUNK. I'M MIKE. YOU?

The man smiled and wrote one word on the paper in response.

BEN.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

That evening at rush hour, another paper snowstorm hit. Thanks to the crowded streets, many of the flyers were picked up eagerly. Later, in many bars, both gay and straight, it was discovered that dozens of snowflakes had quietly replaced all the coasters. And at precisely 1:00 AM, just when the place was the most crowded, the crush of bodies most dense, the vents that took in air from the roof began to spew out white papers as thick as a snow machine, like white bees, creating a mini snowfall within Meathook. It was a spectacle that could not be ignored.

The next morning revealed a new wonder. Along whole city blocks at a time, and especially glued over every single Vote Stockwell poster was a new poster. It was a sky blue poster with a single, large white snowflake in the center. On the top it said in capital and large white letters: VOTE and on the bottom in larger but slightly smaller letters: FOR SNOWSHINE. And on the very bottom was the website address.

When Stockwell saw what had been done, he was speechless with rage. He tried ordering the ones that had been plastered over his own poster removed but it was discovered that the glue that had been used was too strong. If Snowshine's poster came down, so did Stockwell's. So the effort was abandoned after a little while.

Stockwell stormed into City Hall and demanded to see the registration records. It was revealed that two days ago the proper paperwork had been filed under the name John Smith.

"That's not his name!" raged Stockwell, "It's Justin Taylor and he's a wanted criminal! He can't run for mayor!"

The city worker who had processed the form was summoned.

"Ahhh yes, I remember him. White hair. Blue eyes. But young. Rather strange that. He was represented by another man. Oh, he filled out the paperwork, showed his ID and badge. Everything seemed to be quite in order. But he never said a word. His campaign manager in a dark suit, green eyes and curly black hair did all the talking for him."

"Well, it's NOT in order!" shrieked Stockwell in a tantrum, "Whatever his credentials were, they were forgeries!"

"I looked over everything three times VERY carefully," the worker said haughtily, "If they were forgeries, they were very good ones, especially the badge that YOU gave out, Chief Stockwell! Are you saying your badges are unreliable identification?"  
>Stockwell couldn't answer as there wasn't one and besides he was too angry to do anything except hear the roaring in his ears and feel the vein in his temple throb.<p>

"Granted, it is a little irregular that he has decided to use an alias publicly. But it's not unheard of to use a pseudonym to protect his privacy especially on the Internet and there's nothing in the rules about it. I've checked. As far as I'm concerned this application is approved and will remain so. In fact..." The worker reached under the desk and brought out a strange, oversized stamp and added to the already APPROVED stamp on the application. THUMP! The new stamp read SUPER APPROVED.

"SUPER APPROVED!" screamed Stockwell, "Are you fuckin' kidding me!"

"Mr, Stockwell, please!" the worker admonished, pointing to a sign on the wall. Stockwell swore he could feel steam coming out of his ears, he was so mad as he read one of his own placards that he had set up in all government buildings, even though technically he had no right in doing so yet. NO SWEARING.

There was nothing more to be said, nothing more he could do. The chief of police spun on his heel and strode out of there, seeing everything through a red haze, his mind filled with revenge and bloody murder.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

For the next three days, three times a day, each time in a different, yet heavily populated area, there was a paper snowstorm. Every morning a different area 6 blocks square was postered. The first day an enraged Stockwell joined in the effort at ripping down the posters even if it meant ripping away his own as well. That night, a video went up on YU Tube called "Your Tax Dollars at Work, showing 5 minutes of Stockwell and Co., maniacally ripping down posters. At the bottom of the vid throughout was a simple caption: YOUR NEW MAYOR? The link to the vid was posted/ on . It went viral.

As soon as Stockwell saw the video and all the hits he went viral with rage but after that he left the new posters alone. As if by unspoken agreement, the day after the first day that the posters went unmolested, the new posters went up but they stopped posting over Stockwell's posters.

On the fourth day in the morning, the paper snowstorm started as usual. People everywhere were tense and in the area where it did start, people cheered madly to be the ones to witness the day's spectacle. And when the paper snowflakes finally reached them, they were pleasantly surprised to find that today's snowflakes carried a different message.

TONIGHT

AND EVERY NIGHT 7:00 PM

A LIVE MESSAGE FROM SNOWSHINE

Q&A ETC. FOR 1 HOUR

ONLY on WWWDOTSNOWSHINE .ORG

Almost instantly, cell phones went on, texts were sent, passed on, relayed to yet more people. Short e mails were sent by phone or soon after that, by laptops. News about Snowshine finally going live spread across the city like wildfire.

Deep in the basement of Liberty Diner, Blake was monitoring the website's traffic as he was in charge of doing so. Over the next hour he had on a permanent, wide smile on his face as he watched the site traffic give a sharp upward spike, beyond what they ever experienced to date.

On the other side of the coin, the viewers of the website were delighted to find something new on the site. On the top center of the screen was a large 12 hour countdown.

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Brian stood where he was, sick at heart.

This was because he stood before Stockwell's office door. Being in that place, before that door, and/or in that man's presence, always made him feel that way now, sick at heart and in stomach.

If he had hated that man before, it had been like nothing. He hated him ten times more than that now. Loathed and despised were not strong enough words. He hated him as if he were Hitler. Which, in a strange, modern-day kind of way, he was.

But he was there because Snowshine needed him there and he was providing his organization with vital information that only he could get as Stockwell's campaign manager could get. Thanks to him they knew Stockwell's every move, every public appearance, every plan. They were a fly on the wall on every meeting that Stockwell held, no matter how confidential, because as campaign manager Brian was always there. And if there was ever a meeting that he wasn't invited to (although that hadn't happened yet) he had long ago bugged all Stockwell's conference rooms and office with the bugs that Blake had provided him. They were even smaller and yet more sensitive than the ones Stockwell had used on him.

The day after Brian had got back from Snowshine's lair, Brian had had it out with Stockwell for bugging him. When asked how he had found out and where had he been all this time, Brian made up this cock and ball (uhhh, bull) story about being kidnapped by the Stop Prop 14 crew. He had been knocked out, blindfolded, taken underground somewhere, where he had been de bugged, tied up, interrogated and tortured for information. Brian claimed he had given them half true bread crumbs of information in order to stop them from hot pokering his one remaining testicle. (He had lost one to cancer.) However, the majority of Stockwell's more sensitive information remained safe.

Of course, none of this was true. As you might remember, Brian had never been tortured, had sung like Pavarotti, and after the conference and the talk with Michael, had helped Snowshine with a bit more work, had had dinner in the Diner. Then he had taken Snowshine's hand again and together they had gone down to the basement again into the secret room. The big, long room was empty now and Snowshine had led him to a third door which had led into a large room with a king size bed and other bedroom accessories in it. Snowshine shut them in and for the rest of the night they had made love, sucking and fucking each other until they were both sobbing, and then screaming, sweating hunks of quivering desire and then pure pleasure.

Looking back, Brian had remembered the way Snowshine had skilfully assplayed him without him even noticing until it was too late. Before Brian had realized it, his ass had been itching and twitching and aching until he had willingly bent his legs up and hooked his ankles behind his neck. This bit of surprising contortionism earned him a round of applause from Snowshine and a topping of a lifetime as Snowshine had proceeded to plow him, gently at first and then so hard and fast that Brian's eyes rolled back into his head and when he orgasmed, he blew a huge load without touching his cock.

And that night, when the workday was over, Brian had gone home, walked around the block, and snuck stealthily up to the flower truck. Without warning, he yanked open the back door and yelled BOO!...to all the spying surveillance people inside. They were furthermore UNpleasantly surprised when Brian picked up a bucket of water that he had stashed there earlier and threw it all over them and their computers and equipment. Sparks flew, small fires broke out and all the screens and computers went dark.

"Now...your finished! Through! Done!" Brian growled up at them dangerously, "I'm sick and tired of you spying on me! I've known you were there for weeks but it ends now! And if I ever see another truck _of__any__kind,_parked across my street, the next thing I will be throwing is gasoline and a lighted match!" And with this dire threat, he had slammed the door closed with all the soaked technicians still staring at him with their mouths dropped open comically in O's of surprise. Brian stood there and waited on the curb until the truck had started up and drove off into the distance. It did not return.

Of course, the next day, he caught shit for it. (That is, the second day of preparation before the boom fell.)

Now, up till now, Brian had taken a lot from Stockwell, and I mean _a__lot,_ but up till then he had been alone, without hope, without love and without the Fugimoto account. Now he had reunited with his love and had all this and more. And so, at least with this little nugget, Brian stooped to playing a little monkey handball and flung the shit right back.

"Brian, I don't understand. That truck was there for your protection. Now, I'm going to order them back into position tonight and we'll forget this ever happened," Stockwell dictated in a patronizing, mealy mouthed tone.

"Like HELL you will! Listen, Stockwell, this is total bullshit! If that truck was there for my "protection" then why was it disguised as a flower truck and placed there without my permission! Why was it filled with surveillance equipment! You were spying on me, plain and simple! And I meant what I said! I'd known they were there the whole time! I only put up with them because..." he paused, hating that he had to humble himself before this dick of a man.

"Yeeeeeesss?" asked Stockwell in mock interest.

"Because I needed this job," Brian admitted quite honestly, "But I don't anymore." In satisfaction he informed Stockwell about the huge Fugimoto account. "That account will keep my business busy and me on Easy Street for the rest of my life! I don't need you anymore! In fact, YOU need ME! It's too late in the game to get another campaign manager and nobody else would put up with your asinine, bigoted bullshit! So you better straighten up and start treating me right and if I EVER see another "flower truck" (he air quoted viciously) near my building again, I will make good on my thr – promise!" He smiled ferally.

Stockwell saw he was serious and realized he was right. He gulped quietly and quickly changed his tune.

"Brian! Of course not! My goodness, I had no idea you felt so strongly about this! Of course we don't have to put the truck back!" Stockwell's voice had changed into a fatherly, comforting tone. It was the one he used on his kids if one of them was afraid of the dark. "You must believe me, I only put it there to watch over you, for your protection. And after all, even with it that bastard outlaw, Snow White managed to have you kidnapped and tortured. Are you sure I can`t assign you another security detail?"

"No!" returned Brian shortly. Shit! He knew that was going to come back and bite him in the butt! "Besides, I don't think that will happen again. "I got the feeling they felt they got everything they wanted out of me."

"Isn't that the truth," came Snowshine's smug voice into his tiny, invisible earphone, "Remember how I milked you dry without even touching your cock?"

Brian hid the hitch in his breath as pleasure and remembrance coursed through him and he came a little in his underwear right there in front of his greatest enemy.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Now, four days into Snowshine's campaign, Brian stood at Stockwell's door and after checking with a glance at Miss Simmons, knocked. The last person who had knocked and entered when the man was in a rage had been knocked unconscious by one of Stockwell's Police Chief of the Year awards.

"Come in!" yelled Stockwell. He always yelled now. Nowadays, he had two moods: angry and furious.

The police station had become a battle zone. Every one walked on pins, needles and eggshells. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Everyone who could be out in the field, got out there as fast and as much as they could. Anyone who was there doing paperwork cowered in their cubicles. And nobody, but nobody wanted to run into Stockwell on purpose or by accident.

Stockwell had become a rageoholic. He huffed and puffed and snuffed a strange snorting kind of breathing as he walked the corridors. He slammed every door he came across now. And remember baby, this was the Cop Shoppe! There were a lot of doors. And heaven help you if you got caught in an elevator with him or worse yet were called into the evil troll's office! Stockwell's office became nicknamed the Bridge and going inside became known as 'Going under the bridge.' A person who was called in and went "under the Bridge" rarely escaped with their job. The only one who could pass under the Bridge safely was Brian, and that was because Stockwell believed he needed him.

Responding to Stockwell's "gracious invitation", Brian opened the door and went under the Bridge.

"Well! What is it?" yelled the evil troll that had been Stockwell.

"I have the latest poll results," said Brian.

"Well! What are they!" yelled Stockwell.

"You're about 20 points ahead."

"_SAAAY__IT!__"_ the troll huffled.

"Say what, sir?" God, how he _hated_ calling him sir!

"_YOU__KNOOOW...SAY__IT!__"_ the troll snuffled.

Brian sighed long-sufferingly. "You're still the Top Cop in all the land," he said in a bored monotone.

The troll snuffled in self satisfaction. Then he snorted unattractively.

'Wait! Twenty points? I was forty points ahead yesterday evening!"

"Well, that was yesterday. Snowshine has been climbing steadily since his website came out and he's catching up. I figure with this latest stunt he's pulling, it'll put him over the top." Brian was unable to keep the smug satisfaction out of his voice.

"WHAT! NO! THAT'S IMPOSSIB-...WAIT! WHAT STUNT!" Stockwell yelled.

"It was on the flyer from the latest snowstorm," Brian informed him with supreme, barely disguised satisfaction. He showed him one. "He's going live tonight."

"NO! NO! NO! This cannot be! This cannot happen! I must stop him! I must do something! We must think of a plan, Brian! Think! Think of something! Oh, it's not fair! We both know it's that wretched Justin Taylor! He shouldn't be allowed to run in the first place! Oh he makes me so mad! ARRRRRRRGGGGH! I COULD JUST..." He snatched up his HUMANITARIAN OF THE YEAR award and spun quickly and threw it at Brian with deadly force.

But the award only hit the door instead. It broke into several pieces. Stockwell roared in impotent rage.

You see, as soon as Stockwell had begun to rant, Brian had wisely backed toward the door. By the time Stockwell had uttered his first roar of rage, he had reached it, and before Stockwell had even reached for his makeshift weapon, Brian was outside and clicking the soundproof door shut behind him.

TBC

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	14. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 13

7:00 PM

All over Pittsburgh, thousands of people hunched over thousands of laptops, IPads or other computer devices. They watched breathlessly, as the final seconds counted down...03...02...01... and then the entire countdown flashed three times all zeroes. The countdown disappeared.

A dark video screen had been waiting on the center of the screen. Underneath it was a good sized chat box with a type in box underneath that.

At the stroke of seven, the dark screen burst to life. It was indeed live, webshow style. Snowshine was there, in a smart, black suit. He was sitting in a comfortable but unostentatious chair. In front of a glass coffee table in what could have been a living room setting except for the fact that behind him on the wall was a large rainbow Flag on the left and an American Flag on the right.

"Hello Folks! I hope you are all doing as well as I am!" Snowshine greeted in his joyful way. His blue eyes crackled with blue electricity.

I'm doing this webcast because I want to know you better and I want you to know me! After all, the only thing you've seen of me is a recording and some posters and I can hardly expect you to vote for a recording! So let's get started!"

As you can see at the bottom of your screen there is a chat screen. If you type in a question, it will show up here. If you see your question typed in, please don't repeat it. We'll try to get to all of them but remember we only have an hour. But we'll do our best and continue on the next day. We also have a skype ID where you can call in that will be communicated now. There was a 'bling!' sound and an ID appeared in the chat window. "I'm very sorry but I still cannot tell you who I am or where I am, for my own safety. I can only call myself Snowshine. Others may remember me as Officer White or Officer Snow. Many of my co-workers would call me Snow White. It is to these officers that I speak to now: Even if you still hate me, please look at me as the lesser of two evils and do not identify me, instead feel free to call in and call me by the name you meant as scorn. Otherwise, please be advised we are on a 5 second time delay and you can be bleeped out. Thank you."

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" Stockwell ground his teeth in frustration from the big room in the police station where he and dozens of other officers were watching. That wily snow rabbit had thought of everything and outsmarted him on every turn here.

"So...without going into too much detail...who am I and why would I make a good mayor? As I said, I'm a former police officer who specialized in drug busting. I made many arrests. I was head of operations for many of them and know what it is to be in charge. Granted being in charge of a special ops team is different than being in charge of an entire city but I believe I am up for the challenge. And I will not be alone."

Snowshine gestured behind him. "These flags may seem fairly straight forward to you but they mean something deeper to me. When I first came to...my refuge, these were the first things that I saw. And being gay myself, I took a chance and found the best friends a Joe could ask for. Also, Proposition 14 still looms. I trust many of you have read the entire contents of Prop 14 on the site and know it spells certain doom for our orientation. If you haven't, I urge you again, read it as soon as possible and send it on to as many friends as possible. This is the second reason, I have decided to make the Rainbow Flag my backdrop. As for the American Flag, well that's very simple. I love my country and most of all what it stands for, the main two things being, freedom and democracy. Please allow this race to be a democracy and vote for me for a free city instead of the dictatorship and police state that Jim Stockwell has planned as outlined in this terrible bill, the Proposition 14."

"Well, I've yammered on long enough. Let's open up the floor, so to speak. Please message in with your questions now."

Stockwell was so mad he could have chewed through nails like popcorn. How had that little bugger gotten ahold of a copy of his beloved Proposition 14? And how dare he put in down like that? It wasn't fascist, it just made a chaotic world seem more orderly. And there was nothing Jim Stockwell despised more that chaos and nothing he loved more than order.

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"Hi Ben. How are you doing?"

"Oh, hello Sir. I was just doing some paperwork. I was just finishing up for the night."

"Oh OK. Don't let me stop you."

Ben nodded absently. He bent back over his work and signed a few things, dotted a few i's and crossed a few t's. Michael just stood there looking off at nothing and rocking forward and back onto his toes and heels.

Ben looked up nervously. "Uh, Sir? Was there something else?"

"Uh...I was just wondering...I mean if you don't have anything else to do...When you're done..."

Ben looked up at him impatiently.

"I mean...Would you want to go have a beer with me?"

Ben was startled. "Sir, are you asking me out?"

Michael sat down in a chair next to Ben's desk. "I wish you'd stop calling me that, Ben. My name's Michael. Or Mike if you want. And yes. I guess I am...asking you out."

Ben blushed. It was adorable.

"I'm sorry, I'm not used to such attention. I've been such a homebody for such a long time, I've forgotten what it's like to get out. I didn't know you were interested, Sir Mike."

Michael chuckled. "Oh my, Sir Mike! Now you make me sound like a chivalrous knight in a fairy tale land. I hardly deserve such a title."

Ben chuckled as well. "I guess it did sound strange...sorry...Mike. How long have you been interested?"

"Since the first time I laid eyes on you in the diner. I've been gathering up courage to ask you out ever since.'

"Well, I don't know how I feel about you. I was trying to keep it on a professional basis. You are the boss, after all. But OK. I'll go out with you. How 'bout dinner instead? I'm not much of a drinker. And I'm a vegetarian."

"That sounds great!" exclaimed Michael happily.

Ben watched Michael's face light up and something in his gut twisted. "Wait!" he said, "Oh, si...Mike...maybe this isn't such a good idea! There's something you don't know about me."

"What is it?" asked Mikey in concern.

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Bling! The first question popped up.

You mentioned equal taxes and salaries for everyone. How will this be possible?

Justin read the question for everyone and then answered it. "Taxes will remain largely the same as they are now, if I'm elected. There will still be existing sales taxes. However taxes will not be levied against or raised against any specific gender, race...or sexual orientation. I also want to put forth a bill to make it a requirement to pay women the same salary as men who are in the same job. The fact that women police officers for example...or fire fighters...or coffee barristas...or whatever are getting paid a slightly lower salary for doing the same job as men must and will end...at least in Pittsburgh. I believe this will make for happier workers and a better output of work and prosper our city over time."

Bling! Bling! Bling! Questions started popping up, thick and fast, some of them repeats and Blake and a few other volunteers started to field them and pipe in the most relevant ones. Justin fielded each one adeptly.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. All too soon, about a half hour into the program, there was a Skype notification and after checking that it was OK, Justin pulled it up and opened the call.

"Well, if it isn't Officer Snow White!" an ugly voice rasped and an even uglier face appeared on the roll down screen that Justin had set up for callers with a cam.

Justin whirled and faced the screen and his foe. "Stockwell! I was expecting you to call! How did you get through?"

Stockwell adopted this cheesy, frail, old lady voice. "I told them I was sweet old Ellie Mae concerned about the potholes on main street and rising taxes for seniors. HA!" he switched back to his regular voice which was now ugly with hate. "And now I've got you! Officers are even now homing in on your location and you and everyone helping you will be arrested!"

Justin yawned noisily with unconcern. "Oh please! My team is bouncing this signal over 12 servers all over the world. I figure we have 3 minutes to have our little chat before I need to cut you off. And anyone who works for me would gladly pay the price for helping me. They understand the good work I am trying to do and are loyal to me and I to them. I trust them completely. Can you say the same thing about your men, Stockwell?"

Stockwell's face blackened with rage. "Damn you, Snow! You shouldn't even be allowed to run for mayor! You're a filthy law breaker! You're nothing but a drug possessor and runner!"

"Nevertheless, I AM running! AND moving up in the polls, thanks to exposing the truths about Proposition 14! And you and I know YOU planted those drugs in my locker and tried to frame me. I did nothing but help you, your department, and this city and still you tried to destroy me because of your jealousy. Ethan managed to confess everything to me before, I suspect, YOU blew up the car to murder him!"

"Oh I did, did I? Why don't...you...prove it?" Stockwell snarled venomously.

"Unfortunately, I can't. But cars don't flip over and explode on their own, Chief!" snarled Justin right back, 'And who else would do it? And at that exact moment?"

"I have no idea," Stockwell smirked in this disgusting, mealy-mouthed tone.

"Liar. And fool." Justin declared in his steely but gentle way. "The voice of the people of America and of Pittsburgh will always choose what is fair and good and against fascism every time. And they will choose such again, this time. You will fail. Over and out."

Stockwell's face was now a lovely cherry shade of red. His face was so contorted with rage it looked like he could have reached through the computer screen to grab Justin by his fair and slender neck and squeeze till there was nothing left.

"DAMN YOU, SN-..." he yelled before he was cut off.

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A short while after the webcast started, a pair of soft soled shoes stalked silently up a corridor. Hands encased in tight fitting black leather gloves pulled a key out of a pocket. Eyes glanced around furtively. There was no one about. The coast was clear.

The key went into a lock. As quick as thought, the gloved man was through the door, the door was shut and locked from the inside and the corridor was empty again, as empty as if the man had never been.

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"Mike...there's no easy way to tell you this...the thing is...I guess the only way to say it is the direct approach..."

"You have a partner," Mike finished for him in a dead voice.

"NO! I'm available! Very much so! It's just...well the thing is..." Ben took a deep breath. "Mike, I have AIDS."

"Oh." Was all that Michael said.

There was a short silence. Then Ben started in on his speech, which was memorized by heart and spoken so often that when it came out now, it was as if he were reading it.

"It's undetectable right now. I don't have the exact number on me right now but my T-cell count is quite high." Unable to face the dead expression in Mikey's eyes or what he knew what was yet to come, Ben looked down at his desk.

"It happened about ten years ago. Broken condom. The guy didn't give me the courtesy that I'm giving you now so I never knew until symptoms started showing up. But I keep in shape, take my meds, watch my diet. That's why I'm a vegetarian. But we'd always have to be careful. There'd always be a chance...a chance that you'd...well, you know. So...yeah, that it. So...any comments? Questions? Anything?"

There was a short silence.

"Mike? Did you have anything you want to ask about? Mike? Did you still..."

Ben looked up and he shut up. His face twisted in pain. What he had feared and expected to happen and yet with Michael, especially hoped would not happen, _had_ happened.

Michael was gone.

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Justin took a deep breath and tried to center himself after that unpleasant episode. When he turned back to the audience his Snowshine smile was back in full force.

"Well! Wasn't _that_ an unpleasant blast from the past! Alllll-righty then...moving on! I see we have another question from...Chris Hobbs who asks...well this is more like a comment/question...but he writes: I've been keeping up with your website and I've been listening to what you're saying but I'm still not sure if I'm cool with having a gay mayor. I'm a straight family man. In high school, I remember there was this skinny gay kid I was very mean to and I guess you guys would have called me...a homophobe. Fortunately, nothing happened but it could have, I was so angry. Nowadays, I've mellowed out a little and as I said I have a family and a job in my family business. If you become mayor, are you going to paint all the streetlights pink and make laws that will benefit gays and hurt my business, and humiliate me and other straight people? You talk about homophobes. But are you heterophobic? And if you are, how is this going to affect me, my business and other straights?"'

"Wow!" Justin exclaimed, and walked slowly over to his chair and sat down. He teepee'ed his fingers and closed his eyes for a moment and sat there deep in thought for a few moments. Then he looked up and directly into the camera.

"Believe it or not, I'm glad for this question and for the opportunity to answer it. And the answer is a definite and unequivocal no! The streetlights will remain the neutral color they are and there will be no retribution or humiliation for straights by me. Heterophobia will be discouraged just as much as homophobia. We all need to try and live together, in peace and although we may never agree on certain points, it is my hope and dream that there be no more segregation or hostility between our two orientations. Haven't we seen how segregation between two races was doomed to finally fail? Isn't it about time we tear down a few more walls? Oh, and Chris..." Here Justin looked straight at the camera. "I remember high school too. And I remember you. You see, I was that skinny gay kid. And I'm so glad you called in. I'm so sorry that I caused you distress and I forgive you for any bad thoughts or intentions you may have had toward me. We can only be thankful that nothing serious happened."

There was a pause and then...Bling! "My wife is delirious for joy and so am I. Thank you...Snowshine for your forgiveness and apology. You have my vote. Thank you."

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The man pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on. He moved the light around the room, illuminating the desk, the filing cabinet, the pictures on the walls. He smiled a small cruel smile. He knew exactly where to begin.

Then he sprang into action. He moved over to the right picture and swung it open as he knew it would on well oiled hinges. He keyed in the digits that had been supplied to him and the door unlocked with a happy beep.

Inside, were files, money, some jewels, a special trophy. The man cared nothing for these, and placed everything on the desk. He reached and removed a last file that was standing up against the back of the safe innocuously. Behind it was another door, this one with a camera lens and no handle. There was a green pad on the right that lit up. It bathed the man's face in a garish green glow as he smiled toothily, ferally. At the same time a red light over the camera lens lit up.

"Welcome Mayor Stockwell. Please provide your thumbprint for DNA evidence on the pad. Thank you." said a pleasant female robot voice.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

Ben packed up, still kicking himself for opening his stupid trap too soon. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all. No...That would be really wrong. But maybe he could have waited until...

Oh, what was the point? Then Michael would have ditched him in public in a further and more crushing humiliation.

He got up and closed his briefcase and slowly and sadly put on his coat, his shoulders stooping a little in depression. He felt like a sad old man, which he supposed he was. He was just...

"Ready to go, big guy?" a voice said at his shoulder and just behind him.

Ben whirled. "Michael! What are you doing there! I thought...I thought..."

Michael's grass green eyes twinkled in amusement and then clouded over as he saw Ben's alarm. "You thought what, Ben?' he asked quietly.

"I – I thought – I thought you left," admitted Ben.

"Left? Why would I leave?"

"Michael, I just told you I was HIV positive/with AIDS. Before I'd finished you had vanished. Besides...it's happened before...many times."

"Oh Ben! I'm – I'm so sorry! I didn't think! I just heard you tell me you had AIDS and I wanted to get something real quick, I didn't know you weren't finished. I just wanted to give you this."

He took a thornless red rose out from behind his back. In his other hand was a photograph.

"What's all this!" cried Ben.

"Well...the rose is for you. A company who wants to advertise on the site is wooing me and sent me a dozen. But I figure I can do with 11." He held it up and Ben took it and smelled it and put it in his button hole. Suddenly he was smiling and he couldn't stop smiling.

Michael showed him the photo. "This was my Uncle Vic. He had AIDS too. He died a few years ago, peacefully, thank goodness. He was almost undetectable by then too but it took a long time to get him there. My point is, I know what it is to live around and with someone with AIDS. It's going to take a lot more than that to deter me."

"You weren't having a relationship with your Uncle though," reminded Ben, "It's going to be a lot different in our case."

"No, that's true," conceded Michael, "We'll have to be extra careful but it's going to take a lot more than that to scare me off."

Ben grabbed him by the forearms. He pulled him forwards and then shook him a little.

"You stupid little man! Don't you get it? Don't you understand? This is your LIFE! We'll have to use separate razors, separate knives, separate...almost everything. If we have sex, (and don't deny that that's not going through your mind as we speak) we'll always have to use condoms. You'd never be able to have bareback sex again, as long as you were with me. And I'm a jealous, jealous man Mike. I don't do one timers. If you are with me, it could be for a very long time. Are you scared now!" He stared down into Mike's wide, green eyes, intensely, hypnotising him.

"A little."

"Just a little? And what if I told you that even with the condoms, you could still catch AIDS? If you had waited instead of trotting off you would have heard me say that I got it from a broken condom. Scared now!"

"Like I said, a little. But I've played it safe for my whole life and look at where it's gotten me. Alone, sitting at home…with my _mother_! And more than that, I'm scared to death of never feeling the way I'm feeling right now! Because this macho bullshit is turning me the fuck on. Are we allowed to kiss?"

"Yes."

"Then do it then! Kiss me now and kiss me hard!"  
>"You stupid...you stupid sh..." But Ben got no more out because his lips had smashed down onto Michael's almost against his will, as inevitable as the way a wave crashes down against the shore. The kiss was incredible. To Mike it was like a supernova, the Fourth of July fireworks, and the best Christmas present ever. For Ben, the emotions and sensations that coursed through him were so intense it was as if he were being smashed in the head with a gold brick that had been wrapped up in a silk cloth with a twist of lemon.<p>

Many, many minutes later, they pulled back and looked at each other with heavy lidded eyes. They had their arms around each other's waist and neither ever wanted to let go.

"Wha – What the hell was that?" gasped Ben, "Where have you been all my life?"

"I've been here. I've been right here...waiting for you," answered Michael.

And then they smashed together again for long minutes and there was no more talking. Their tongues were otherwise engaged, and besides, there are times when talking is overrated.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

After the Chris Hobbs call, Justin became more and more animated, his smile even brighter and his eyes like two stars. Everyone out there in computerland could feel his palpable joy and fed off of it, becoming joyful themselves.

Justin took a few more questions and then a skype request buzzed through.

"Uh oh, folks! Let's hope it's not another call from "Ellie Mae" again!" He laughed delightedly and confidently as if he could hear the crowd of watchers laughing along with him, as indeed they were.

""Well, who is it? Oh my! It's a real one this time! Oh I know who this is! Oh folks, it s a very dear friend. I'm going to be so glad to introduce you to him!" Justin shouted for joy as he waited impatiently for the person to show up on screen. At last a familiar face popped up on screen and Justin shouted the name in a rapture of happiness.

"Luigi!"

"Officer White! Officer White! Can you hear Luigi yet!"

"Yes! Yes Luigi! I can hear you! I can hear and see you too! But how did you manage this! I didn't know you knew anything about computers!"

"Guido help me," Luigi answered, "Guido still pretty stupido, but..."

"Hey!" yelled a voice in the background.

"But Guido, he knows about the computer machine. He hook me up. Now Luigi get to see and hear old friend again!"

"Yes Luigi! Oh, I can't tell you how much I've missed you!"

"Hmmph! You miss Luigi so much, why you no visit old friend no more?"

"Oh Luigi, I want to! And if I'm elected, I'll come by your place a lot more. Would you like that? Will you vote for me!"

"Si, si, I vote! I vote! But what Luigi really want to ask is why Chief Stockwell say such terrible things about Officer White. Luigi remembers you arrest molti stupidos, molti animali nocivi! (_many__vermin_) Why he say you drug runner when Luigi know this to be not true!"

"Oh Luigi! Stockwell is hoping to discred— to make me look bad so people will be confused or angry with me so they will not vote for me and he can become mayor. But like I said before, my partner Ethan confessed everything before he was killed. Stockwell planted those drugs in my locker to frame me. Even then, he was jealous of me and hated that I have...have _amici__speciali_," he explained.

"Ohhhhhhhhh!" Luigi said, understanding.

"But I have no proof. So I have to hide for a while longer, ok Luigi?" Justin asked.

"You no worry! Luigi always have a table ready for Officer White! You no worry! And everybody else...You no listen to Stockwell! Officer White is good, good man! He arrest lots of stupidos! He in danger many times! He get promoted! He make good mayor! You vote White! Oh and don't worry, I make sure Guido vote too!"

"Hey!" yelled a voice offscreen.

Luigi was enraged. "You stupido! You vote! You vote for White or you get outta my place! You'll vote or I'll..." Snatching up a meat cleaver, Luigi swung it indiscriminately and ran off camera . The rest of his death threat was screamed in furious Italian and grew fainter and fainter.

"Luigi! Luigi! Are you there!" When there was no response, Justin broke the connection.

"Ahh well! Just as well, as we're almost out of time anyway. Luigi is an old friend and I often ate at his restaurant, Luigi's Palace. He's a great chef, even if he is a little temperamental. And I'm a lucky man to have his recommendation. Well Folks, it looks like we're out of time for now. Tune in tomorrow for another question period. Many of you will be relieved to hear there will be no more snowstorms of flyers. Good bye for now everybody! See you tomorrow!

The camera fuzzed and went dark and people could see the webcast was over. Above the dark screen a new countdown appeared and started counting down: 23:00:00.

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The man in Stockwell's office moved quickly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass slide, the kind they use for microscopes and peeled off a piece of tape from it. The piece of tape held a fingerprint lifted from a shot glass the day before using hot chocolate powder mix.

The man smiled cruelly as he thought back to when he had toasted to the downfall of Snowshine and then, the instant Stockwell's back was turned, had used a handkerchief to quickly pocket the shot glass. The arrogant fool hadn't even noticed that the glass was missing, as if he had simply assumed it would clean itself up.

The man carefully stuck the piece of tape onto the green, glowing pad and the computer just as carefully and dutifully scanned it.

"Identity confirmed. Welcome, Mayor Stockwell," said the clueless robot prematurely.

There was a hiss of a vacuum seal opened and the inner door cracked open. The man reached in opened it all the way.

Inside, was a photo album and a CD in a plastic case. The man thumbed through the photo album and nodded in satisfaction. He pocked both items and shut the inner door which re-locked.

He was just replacing the items that had been in the outer safe when a noise attracted his attention.

Someone was at the door to the office. The knob jiggled.

The man moved like lightning. He replaced the rest of the items in two moves and slammed the door shut and then the picture closed.

Outside, Stockwell cursed as he found his office door locked. He didn't remember locking it. He fumbled around his pockets looking for it.

The man cursed inwardly. "Dammit Snowshine, I was supposed to have the whole hour! What the hell went wrong! And what am I going to do now!" he thought.

Outside, Stockwell had found his key. The key slid into the lock.

Brian stood there, frozen, a lump of ice. If he didn't do something, _anything_ and NOW!...he would be caught!

The lock clicked open. The knob turned. Slowly, the door began to open...

TBC

PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!

A/N: Ain't I a stinker! Merry Christmas and see you in the New Year!


	15. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

Warning: The Goodfellas strike again! Some violent and potentially distubing images ahead in this chapter.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 14

Justin emerged from the conference room, which they had converted into a studio. His forehead was shiny with sweat and he was stooped over in exhaustion. The manic energy and adrenaline had worn off and he was exhausted.

He was immediately surrounded by helpers and well-wishers and someone gave him a bottle of water and helped him over to a chair near where Blake was monitoring the website.

"So – how did it go?" Justin asked. "How many did we lose when Stockwell wormed his way onto the show?"

"Are you kidding!" Blake exclaimed. "That was our biggest spike in viewers! And then it just kept going!" He pointed to the graph chart, showing Justin where Stockwell had called and then to another, higher jump. "This is where Luigi called in. Hey, do you think we can get both of those guys to call back tomorrow!"  
>"Keep dreaming," Justin smiled at the technician tenderly.<p>

"Hmmmmmm...maybe we could get them on together...OH WOW! The fireworks that that would generate!" Blake obliged him.

"Blake! NO! I was kidding! Besides there's no way! And if I hear Stockwell's voice again, it'll be too soon."

"Oh! Of course Justin! Of course..." Blake trailed off half disappointedly, half still dreamy.

Chuckling at Blake's expression, Justin sat back in his chair, sipping his water and breathing heavily. He was still exhausted. He couldn't imagine doing this again tomorrow night...and the next...and the next...but he must...and he would.

He watched the graph chart on Blake's screen in joy. This was the first night and if the numbers were this high, he could count on higher ones tomorrow. If this trend continued, the hits to the site would be astronomical.

As they watched, the line showing the hits went slowly but steadily down as the many viewers logged off the site.

Justin got a brainwave. "Blake, can you post a vid of tonight's broadcast that anyone can stream at any time? Like a rerun? Like a kind of vlog?"

"Absolutely! Good idea Justin! It'll be up within the hour!" Blake's fingers flew over the keys.

_Within the hour...within the hour...within the hour..._ Justin frowned. Hmmmm, that reminded him. Brian was due home by now. Justin closed his eyes and tried not to worry. He hoped nothing had gone wrong.

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_30 minutes earlier..._

Outside, Stockwell had found his key. The key slid into the lock.

Brian stood there, frozen, a lump of ice. If he didn't do something, _anything_ and NOW!...he would be caught!

The lock clicked open. The knob turned. Slowly, the door began to open...

"Chief! Chief!"

Stockwell turned toward the annoying voice and yelled, "What is it!"

A young and handsome, dark haired officer was running up the hallway but stopped before he got close to the Chief. He wondered if this was such as good idea after all. "Uhhh...I just thought maybe you should come back. There's an Italian on the skype now! He seems to be talking about you! I thought you'd want to hear."

"I see...I see...And I bet you thought you could gain my favor for bringing me this news, didn't you my boy?" Stockwell purred. He took a step toward the younger man who was caught in his manic gaze like a deer in the headlights. Stockwell caressed the young man's throat in an almost loving way. The officer was creeped out but he dared not move. "Hoping for a favor from the new mayor when I win, is that it?"

"Uh...I didn't have anything specific in mind...but yes, I guess so Sir," quavered the young and handsome officer.

In a lightning move, Stockwell grabbed the officer around the neck and squeezed painfully. He slammed him into the wall. With his other hand he unfastened the officer's badge.

Brown noser! Fool! Did you think you could deceive me! Did you think I would fall for such obvious pandering!" He indicated the badge. "I'm keeping this! The number and symbol of your authority! In essence, I've taken the heart of your profession from you! And it belongs to me now! Now, I'm going to watch whatever it is in my office. If I like what I see, I'll find you by the number that is inscribed on your heart! You'll be my pet! My flunky and slave! You'll do anything I say, and obey without question or I'll finish the job I'm doing now! (The man was turning blue.) And if I find you've betrayed me or failed me in any way, I'll kill you as well! If I don't like what I see, I'll fire you and make sure you're blackballed! You'll never work in law enforcement again! You won't even be able to get a job as a mall cop!" Stockwell finally let go of the officer who dropped in a heap on the floor, half conscious and gasping for air. The blue tinge finally began to recede from his face.

Laughing maniacally, Stockwell went into his office and slammed the door.

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Inside, the office was quiet, orderly, empty. A sanctuary from all the stupidity and disorder of the outside world and especially from all the stupid grunts who worked for him.

Still chuckling softly at his own perverse jokes, Stockwell sat down at his desk and booted up his computer. He was too late to understand what was going on; just that the excitable Italian chef was ranting in a manic way and Snow White was being his usual mealy mouthed self. Stockwell muted the sound and took care of a few paperwork tasks while he waited for the broadcast to be over. Then he waited. He kept his eye on the site and refreshed it regularly, waiting. At last it came up. He smiled cruelly. He had known Justin would post a vlog simply because he knew that that is what he would have done if he were in his position. And Stockwell would never admit it to anyone but in his heart of hearts he considered Justin his equal especially in the cunning and intellectual department.

Stockwell brought up the recording and moved the pointer forward to the broadcast to the time when Luigi had called in. He watched the events unfold, his face black with rage. His hands were balled into fists. And then Snow White was cheerily saying good bye and plugging the fat chef's restaurant to boot. Stockwell reared back to punch in the offending computer's screen.

With incredible control, Stockwell's fist stopped an inch way from punching in the screen. His face smoothed out a little and he grew contemplative. He sat there in his silent office, thinking furiously. He drummed the fingers on his desktop as he thought and thought.

At last he picked up the phone and the badge he had taken off his new toy. He called the directory and punched in the badge number. When the officer picked up, Stockwell ground out:

"Well, I've decided not to fire you, so you know what the alternative is. You belong to me. And I have your first assignment. I want you to take a squad of men and go to the restaurant of that fat chef, this...Luigi's Palace. Raid it. Smash the door in. Destroy the place and kill whoever you find there! Spare only the fat chef and this...this Guido person whoever he is. Bring them to me! Succeed and you will keep your job and earn my favor! Fail and it will cost you your life!

There was a pause as he listened to the other man's frightened whining. "Hmmm. You're right. I guess you will need it back. A pity. I was kind of hoping to keep it close to me, but you will need to show it. In fact, I think I'll come along and keep my new toy in line!" he snickered nastily. "OK, meet me at the front desk in five!" He slammed down the phone and went out of the office, slamming the door behind him. The lock clicked.

Quaking in his Armani shoes, Brian crept out from his hiding place, behind the heavy drapes that covered Stockwell's large ceiling to nearly floor windows that sported a spectacular if not ostentatious view. The drapes themselves reached all the way to the floor and had covered him completely.

When Stockwell had first been distracted, Brian had sprung into action, knowing this was Providence and his only hope. In two steps he had reached the curtains and in a few more seconds had positioned himself behind them. And by the time Stockwell had finished threatening the young officer and slammed his way inside, Brian was invisible.

Of course, he had heard everything. Once more he was the sole witness to the man's depraved and medieval atrocities. But this time, he was going to be damned if he lay down and took it.

Reaching into his pocket, Brian took out and affixed the small earpiece into an ear and turned it on.

"Exterminator! This is Prince! This is Prince, calling Exterminator and Snowshine on a 911! Come in! For the love of God, come in!"

"Prince! This is Exterminator!" Blake answered in his ear, using his code names as they always did while on the air. "Snow White's been worried! What happened! Are you all—"

"Never mind that now! There's no time to explain! This is a Code Red emergency! You must call up Luigi and tell him to evacuate his restaurant IMMEDIATELY! Get everyone out and close up! He and Guido must RUN and not walk to the Liberty Diner where they must be taken down into the hiding place! Make it happen! NOW!"

There was a about a five second pause. Then: "OK Prince! Things are processing! Now, what's this all about!"

"First, tell Snow that the target was acquired. Second, Stockwell heard Luigi's broadcast. He's going to raid his place any minute! Anyone there will be shot without warning and Luigi and Guido taken as prisoners! Get everyone out! I'm on my way back! Over and out!"

Brian switched off and dashed to the door. Unlocking the door, he opened it carefully and made sure the coast was clear. Once he saw it was, he relocked the door behind him and got the hell out of there.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

Unfortunately, as it is with most things, things did not go as smoothly as they wanted.

Justin phoned up his friend and tried to warn him but due to Luigi's poor English, he did not fully understand the situation. And by the time Justin thought to switch to Italian, it was too late.  
>Meanwhile, Blake dispatched Vixen, Swish Stick and Red to pick up Luigi and Guido in the van that they affectionately called the Fag Wagon or the Fag Wag for short. Red would be the Wheel Man (uh...Person) and the other two were trained in martial arts if things went bad. Kiki took over for Red in the Diner.<p>

As it was, things went very, very bad.

Luigi was still trying to figure out what Justin was yammering on about. ("Get out? What you mean, get out? You mean take out? Oh si, si! Luigi fix you up some nice cannoli!") Luigi heard Justin groan in frustration and suddenly Luigi's ear was filled with the clear, smooth sound of his own dear native language. Justin was telling him to pull fire alarm and to get all his customers out of the building and to leave by the back door where a van would be-

At that moment there was a deafening BOOM!...as the front of the restaurant exploded inward thanks to a few quietly placed plastic explosives. The entire building shook, dishes and pots and pans fell off their shelves. The phone went dead.

Luigi grabbed Guido and pushed him behind him. He peeked out of one of the round windows in the kitchen doors and what he saw chilled him to the very bone. Police officers waded in, too many to count and kicked over chairs and tables and ground them to pieces beneath their jackboots. They carried machine guns.

Many of the customers, especially those near the beautiful picture window were already dead, cut to ribbons. The rest were cut horribly or dazed and in shock. The officers swept the place for survivors and before Luigi's horrified eyes, shot them all dead. There were a few horrified screams and then silence. The sound would haunt Luigi for the rest of his days.

Fortunately, Luigi could see where this was headed. He didn't wait for them to make their way toward the back. He shoved Guido forward in front of him and hissed: "Out back! Out back! Hurry! Hurry stupido!" At the same time, he swept a stack of white dinner plates aside from a lower shelf. The plates smashed onto the floor as they would have anyway. Behind them, Luigi grabbed the lockbox he kept the petty cash in, (the rest was in the bank, Luigi, he wasn't stupido!) and ran after Guido to the back door. On the way he snatched up his meat cleaver.

Just as they opened the door to the alley, the kitchen doors smashed open so hard one was ripped off the top hinges. Officers flooded the kitchen, sending everything flying, smashing and crashing down. "FREEZE! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST! SURRENDER OR YOU WILL BE TASED!" yelled the first officer on the scene.

"Me no think so! Luigi thing you should try some of Luigi's special sauce first! Luigi grabbed the last intact pot still simmering on a nearby stove and threw the entire simmering contents into the nearest police officer's face. Then he threw the pot with deadly force at another.

The man sloshed with hot spaghetti sauce had a face of instant second-degree burn. He screamed and fell to the floor. The pot hit another with a resounding "GONNNNGGGG!" and was knocked out. Both were trampled and tripped up many officers before they surged forward again.

"Ohhh...You no like!" screamed Luigi, "Maybe I not use enough Olive oil! Here!" He snatched up a glass bottle and threw it at the floor at the feet of the nearest marching soldier. The glass smashed and spilled it's slippery contents all over the floor.

The advancing officers slipped and slid and fell as they tried to move forward. Two officers tased each other. They fell in a heap causing yet another backup.

Luigi slammed his way out and barricaded the door with a couple of trash cans. He turned around to a nasty shock.

More cops were already there, in the back. A couple were there, holding Guido hostage, a slick, leather glove over the frightened boy's mouth to keep him from crying out and warning the chef.

"All right old man! Give up! No-one wanted to hurt you! Submit to a tasing and we won't need to use any other force! Come on now, we have orders not to kill you!"

Luigi stooped his shoulders and adopted a quavery voice making it sound old and frail. "Si! Si! Luigi give up! Luigi give up! Just no hurt Guido! Guido like son! You no hurt Guido!"

Behind them, the back door began to boom as it was begun to be battered open from the inside.

The officer not holding Guido moved forward, his mouth in a sneer, his eyes glinting with cruel triumph. He reached forward with the taser.

"YAAAAHHHHHH!" Just before he was tased, Luigi brought out the cleaver from behind his back and buried it in the officer's shoulder, right where Luigi knew it would be meatiest.

The officer screamed and was driven to his knees and then his side with pain. The officer holding Guido was shocked and thrown off enough guard for Luigi to grab Guido's arm and pull him to safety.

BOOM! BOOM! Went the back door.

Luigi kicked the other cop in the crotch. Down went the second one.

"LUIGI NOT SO OLD!" screamed the chef.

Still holding onto Guido's wrist he pulled the younger man along as they ran down the alleyway.

"Run! Hurry, Run! Luigi out of tricks now!" The two men ran for their lives.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM and CRASH! The back doors _exploded _open and Gestapo-esque cops streamed out into the alley and after them. They were slimy with oil and bruised from being trampled and mad as hornets.

"When we get through with you, you are going to WISH you had just been tased!" screamed someone insanely, "GET THEM BOYS!"

There was a furious rush towards them. The two Italians ran for their lives.

ZAP! ZAP! Tasers were shot out. Luigi dropped and rolled and the taser missed him. Guido wasn't so lucky. He was hit and spasmed wildly before falling to the ground, unconscious.

Luigi got up and kept running. He dashed for the corner and made it just before he heard another ZAP! The taser missed him by inches.

Luigi wanted to peek around the corner but he heard things like: We got this one, keep after him….and: Hurry! Get that fat fuck!…so he kept going.

But he only made it about halfway down the next alley before cops, dozens of them ran around the corner after him. They quickly and systematically flooded the alleyway so there was only one way to go…out onto the street where more cops and their cars waited for him.

"Give it up old man!" the lead cop yelled.

"Luigi…Not…so….OLD!" yelled Luigi. But his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. There was nowhere else to go. "But si…si…Luigi give up! Luigi give up!" The fat chef huffed and puffed in exertion.

The corrupt cops advanced on Luigi with evil smiles and their tasers outstretched. The fat chef trembled. Things looked hopeless.

And then, out of the alley about a half block down, headlights turned on, illuminating the scene in stark contrast. A motor roared to life. And out of the dark alleyways, just in the nick of time, a van jumped its way forward, a van with a woman at the wheel, a woman with bushy red hair and manic, determined eyes.

The Fag Wag roared its way forward and mowed its way through the sea of cops. The big, strong men screamed like little girls as the van either whacked them out of the way or forced them to jump to the left or the right, much of the time having to press themselves flat against the slimy brick walls to avoid the oncoming van.

The side door slid open. A figure aimed. With deadly accuracy, two sharp, silver hair pins whizzed through the air. The pins struck their targets, the tasers that were nearest to Luigi's soft flesh. The tasers sparks and short circuited and zapped the two officers holding them. They slumped unconscious.

The Fag Wag continued to advance. The police turned to face this new foe and a bit of panic and confusion began to fill the crowd.

The Fag Wag's headlights went out. Two figures blacker than black flipped out of the side door. They were dressed in skin-tight black and masked ninja style but out of the bottom of one head mask, flowed some wisps of blond hair.

The two ninjas began a deadly attack, knocking heads together, kicking butts and throwing cops over the van and into dumpsters. One ninja seemed to be all arms and legs and seemed to be doing a monkey style type of kung fu.

Now the policemen were filled with _real _panic as they were crowded into this small space in the dark, fighting a seemingly unending foe. They began to yell and panic and fight in earnest and yet they never seemed to make any headway.

The ninjas reached Luigi and grabbed his arms and began leading him toward the van. With systematic punches and throws they easily cleared a path toward t he van.

"Don't worry! We're here to rescue you!" assured the blond ninja, throwing a big cop backwards over her shoulder.

"Just get in the van! We're going to take you to Officer White," said the long limbed one, cleverly poking two cops and causing them to start fighting with one another.

"Officer White? From the website? OK, Luigi go!" Luigi agreed. Besides, there was nothing he could do here anymore. Oh…but poor Guido!

Finally, they reached the van and Luigi threw in the lockbox and clambered aboard after it. The two ninjas hopped nimbly after and the sliding door slammed. Luigi began to feel safe for the first time since the phone went dead.

"Punch it, Red!" Emmett said breathlessly.

Red punched it. The headlights went on, revealing a sea of cops all fighting each other. The tires squealed. 'Squwweeeeeeeeeeee!' as they jumped forward and through them. They hit the street and turned away from Luigi's Palace and were away.

Even before they were a half a block away, there was a shockwave and the streets quaked for a full block in diameter as Luigi's Palace exploded in a firestorm. Anything inside and even a bit of the stores flanking it was completely destroyed.

Luigi was heartbroken. "Oh no! Luigi's restaurant! It gone! Luigi have to start all over again! All over!" And then he remembered. "Oh no! Guido! They capture Guido! We have to go back! Oh no! What if they throw him inside before it blow! Guido, he might be dead!"

By this time, Lindsay had ripped off her mask. "Oh, I'm so sorry Luigi! We can't go back for him now! There are too many of them! But if he is still alive, I promise, we'll do whatever we can to rescue him! I promise!"

Emmett poked her. Linds! You shouldn't make that kind of promise! Not till we talk to Snowshine!"

"Don't worry! I plan to! Time to check in anyway!"

She switched on her headset. This is Vixen calling Exterminator! Come in!"

"This is Exterminator! What the haps?"

"Snow White was right. The big bad wolf blew in the house of wood. It's completely destroyed. We are all safe and headed back to the house of brick with one pig in custody. Second pig named Guido was captured. Recommend immediate rescue attempt! I can go now! I'll just hop out! Over!"

"Negative! My instruments show enemy wolves all over the scene! Too dangerous! Rest and regroup and we'll plan a rescue for tomorrow when we know where he's stashed. I'll inform Snow White of the developments. All right! Vixen….All right! Over."

Vixen sighed but she knew it was the only way. "All right. Over and out." To Red she said, "Back to HQ, stat!"

Red pushed the pedal to the metal and took a hard right. Again the tires went SQUUEEEEEEEEE!…and they zoomed away toward home.

TBC

PLEASE REVIEW! THANK YOU!


	16. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

A/N: The ending of this chapter is dedicated to all those readers out there…I SEE you….who have NOT./do not leave a review. (Wink)

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 15

The next day...

Liberty Diner had gone Italian.

New to the menu for a limited time only were servings of cannoli, ravioli, spaghetti and meatballs, and linguini with white sauce. All the Formica tabletops had been covered in plastic red and white checked tablecloths.

Most of the fags who came into the Diner didn't really know what to make of this, especially the regulars. Sure, this was nice but they were used to their burgers and fries, onion rings, Deb's lemon bars and especially their pink plate specials. And sometimes Debbie would humor them and let them order their regular orders but sometimes, in her indiscriminate way, she would blurt out: "You're too skinny! You're having the ravioli!"...or..."We're outta pink plates, have the spaghetti!"...or..."We have a guest chef! Are you _trying _ to hurt his feelings?"...or..."You'll eat what I bring you!" And they would what she did...or else!

Last night, after they got back to the Diner, they had all hustled in double time by the back door near the dumpster. Into the kitchen, down the stairway; although Emmett went first to work the triggers. Through the secret door and into the hiding place where they all breathed a collective sigh of relief as they finally began to feel safe again...at last.

Justin and Luigi enjoyed a tearful reunion, that is, Justin being enfolded and crushed into Luigi's ample chest and stomach and Luigi bursting into tears over his traumatic experience and the loss of Guido.

"Oh, Officer White! It terrible! Terrible! And Guido shook...like this..." Luigi spasmed wildly to show him. "And then went still. Polizia...they catch! They may have thrown him inside before...before..."Luigi broke down again. "Ohhh Guido! He pretty stupido! But he still like son to Luigi! Luigi no want to see him morto!"

Justin just patted him a good long while before saying anything, which was just as well, as the over the top chef would not have heard him anyway. Eventually though, Luigi calmed down enough to hear Justin whisper in his own sweet Italian, "Calm yourself Luigi, calm! I'm pretty sure Guido is still alive somewhere and we will find out where tomorrow. They were after you both, which means Stockwell wanted you to get to me and in turn he will try to use Guido to get you. He may be a little worse for wear but we will get him back. I promise."

"Si? Really? You think?" Luigi said at last.

"Si. I really do. Now try not to worry anymore and go on to sleep. I had a mattress set up for you in one of the storerooms. We'll talk more in the morning."

Luigi sighed and heaved a little but he could see he was being dismissed as well. "Si, si! I go now! Now you no worry Officer White! I be good guest! I sleep sound! I be quiet! And in the morning, I make up to you! I make up for such good rescue and hospitality! I cook! I cook for all of you! You all too skinny!"

"Oh Luigi, that's really not-..."

"No! No! I cook! I cook for Officer White again! I am good guest! I earn keep! Besides...I know I 'hide out' but I cannot stay down here all day! Luigi need to see sun, feel fresh air, once in while. I cook, watch people go by, feel sun, watch men mange...eat!"

"Well, OK Luigi, I'll see what-..."

And it was at that moment that Brian came in, ushered through the door by Debbie.

BJBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB

"Snowshine!" yelled out Brian as soon as he was through, the word a bleat of pure joy.

Justin turned toward the sound, and his face lit up in one of those smiles that had given him his name, as dazzling as the sun that shines off the snow. He ran toward Brian and Brian ran toward him and they met in the middle of the long room. They snapped together as finally and as inevitably as two magnets. They smashed their mouths together in front of everyone but they didn't care. As far as they were concerned, they were the only two ones in the room.

They remained like that for many minutes. Many people realized it was suddenly quitting time and began packing up. Others suddenly found something on the floor or the ceiling fascinating or realized they had extra photocopying or stapling to do.

At last Justin pulled back and stared into Brian's deep, brown eyes. "Welcome home, my Prince. You ran a little late. I was getting worried."

"I ran into a little snag. I had to hide behind the troll's curtains in his office before I could make my escape. What happened? You told me I'd have the full hour."

Justin shrugged. "I figured you would. I thought he'd watch the webcast. "Ahhh well, we can always try tomorrow."

"No need. I got it."

'You got it! Really!" And Justin's eyes lit up as bright as two blue stars and set Brian's heart and loins on fire and brought to life a part of his soul that he thought was dead and gone. Justin pawed at his coat. "Let me see! Let me see!" He sounded like a kid on Christmas.

"Ah...ah...ahhh!" Brian teased, keeping his coat closed. "Later. When we're alone. I think there's a lot of sensitive material in here."

"I remember. But first I'd like to see what you took from the safe," Justin quipped impishly.

"Twat! That's what I was talking about! I think we're going to have to be very careful with what I found!"

"Really?"

"Yes. I don't know exactly what it all is. There's a scrapbook and a computer disc. I think you're right. I think he was keeping trophies. I'm glad I was able to get into them at last! I've been itching to get into that safe ever since I found it a few days ago."

"I'm only sorry the webcast wasn't enough of a diversion for you."

"It was enough. And now we've got it, not that I think we need it. Tonight's webcast will have been more than enough to push the polls into your favor. And now that we've got this stuff, there's no reason for me to stay there. I can tell that old buzzard where to stick it once and for all!"

Justin grew pensive. "Wait Brian. There might be...one...more reason for you to be there."

"What do you mean?"

Justin looked sorrowfully over at Luigi who was sitting in an extra chair. He was twisting his white chef hat nervously in his hands. He looked distinctly miserable and out of place. Which he was.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

And so, the next day was a tense, pensive day of waiting. Luigi cooked as he waited to hear about Guido. Snowshine practiced what he was going to say that night which was pointless work as he suspected he was going to have to improv the whole thing anyway. And Brian went to work at the police station one last time and nosed around for clues.

It was disgustingly easy to find out what he wanted to know. They all trusted him completely now. And loved him because he was the one and only buffer between them and Stockwell. The one and only shining jewel of sanity they could look up to in the madhouse that the police station had now become.

If only they knew how much he hated them all. Hated them for how they'd treated Snowshine. Hated them for going along with Stockwell so easily, like dumb and duped lemmings. And ever since he and Snowshine had gone over the material from the safe last night, being in Stockwell's presence, made him positively ill.

As Snowshine had predicted, Stockwell had kept trophies, newspaper clippings of every filthy, disgusting, murderous, double dealing, and treacherous act he had ever committed. All in painstaking, chronological detail. The computer disc held financial records, all the money Stockwell had ever embezzled, siphoned off, taken as bribes, laundered, gambled away and then cheated back through fixed gambling. It was a huge fortune, stashed away in the Caymans and Switzerland, as massive as a mountain of gold that is jealously guarded by a dragon.

Once he had realized what he had here, Snowshine had flipped through the clippings log and checked. And there it was. The clipping of his last bust with Cody and Cody's murder.

For a long time, Snowshine sobbed against his Prince's chest and Brian just held him and rocked gently as all the pain, anger and the unfairness of it all poured out of him.

"I always suspected he had done something. Tipped them off. Sent us to the wrong place. Something. Anything. Now I'm sure of it." Snowshine whispered at last.

And Brian was sure of it as well. Which is why it gave him an inordinate amount of personal satisfaction, when that afternoon he slammed into Stockwell's office without knocking and dropped the polls down onto his desk.

"There! The latest polls! Snowshine's webcast put him over the top as I warned you! But all you did was rage and gripe and throw things and push that STUPID Prop 14 which has to be the most fascist piece of garbage I've ever seen! You didn't listen to anything I told you, you hetero fuck! So there you go!" Brian smiled maliciously. "You are NOT the Top Cop in all the land! And as of tonight's webcast, you are NEVER going to be mayor! And I for one, am done with you! I quit!"

"So that's it! You're going to just desert me when I'm down, like a rat off a sinking ship! Is that it?" Stockwell snarled.

"Oh please! If I was going to do that, I would have jumped ship a loooonng time ago!" Brian snarled right back, "Taking off because you're going down would be so much simpler but I have other reasons! First and foremost, I cannot stand your depravity any longer! And I have seen your depravity...in ways you can't even imagine just yet," he whispered malevolently. "And second, before, I was alone, I was unloved, and I didn't care who I hurt or betrayed! But that is not the case any longer! I love and I am loved! And I can no longer stand your presence or betray my own kind! That is why I quit!"

"Your own kind? Betrayed? What the heck are you talking about, Kinney?" Stockwell asked, briefly letting his confusion overpower his never-ending rage.  
>You <em>fool<em>! You never did clue in, did you? Well let me spell it out for you then! I – AM – GAY, you idiot! Your most trusted advisor, your campaign manager, is a big old musical loving, fudge packing, butt-loving queer! And all those things you wrote about in Prop 14 would have affected me! That's why I'm quitting, you sexist, egotistical, homophobic bigot!"

Stockwell sat back in his chair, his eyes wide, his mouth open, his face a perfect mask of stupefied rage and hate. His mouth flapped a few times like a fish out of water. Brian smirked back at him and wished he had a camera. Then he remembered...he did!

And so, he whipped out his cell phone and began snapping away. That only made Stockwell angrier. Brian didn`t care. That only made the next few shots even more pure gold.

Stockwell was now simply _incoherent_ with rage. His face grew redder and redder and he made gurgling noises in his throat. He began to growl. He roared. He roared in rage like the animal he had now become...like a lion or tiger or bear. Oh my!

Brian started back a bit and snapped a last picture. Maybe it wasn`t such a good idea to poke at the tiger with a stick here but he just couldn`t help it. He had put up with so much, that he just didn`t care anymore. He was through taking his crap and ready to dish it right back!

Brian roared right back, louder, more ferally, as viciously as he could muster right into the old troll`s face. Stockwell was shocked into silence although he was still just getting over the shock of the news.

"But...but...but how?" Stockwell finally regained the power of speech. "I asked for the most prestigious...the best...the...the..."

"FOOL! Do you still not understand! I AM the best! I am the best advertiser in Pittsburgh and STILL I could not sell you! What does that say about YOU! I am also the best fag I can be, a goal I have strived for my entire life! The two have nothing to do with each other! But you are too blind and stupid to see that! And so I leave you to your bigotry and anger! I leave you to your eventual defeat! So long fucker!" And with that, Brian turned to leave.

"I don't think so," said Stockwell, his voice deceptively calm.

"What are you talk...Uhhhggghhhh!" managed Brian as he felt something smash down on the base of his skull. Everything went black.

Stockwell stood over him, a malevolent monster, glorying over his captured prey.

"You fucking fag! Nobody makes a fool out of James Stockwell and lives to tell about the tale! Fuckin' fairy!" Stockwell snarled.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

_Some time later..._

Brian awoke in stages. His head pounded, especially at the back where he could feel a massive goose egg was forming. He groaned and tried to sit up. That was a mistake.

"Signore! Signore! You lie back! You lie back! You rest! Guido take care of you! I take good care! Oh dear! He hit you so hard!"

"Huh? Wha happened? What hit me? Where am I?"

"Stockwell hit you! He bring you down with other cop by back way. You in basement of police station in holding cell with Guido! They work Guido over pretty good but Guido tell them nothing!

Brian looked over at where the voice was coming from. He recoiled.

An olive skinned young man, maybe even teenager about 17 years old or so was peering closely into Brian's face. Too close. The young man's face had been beaten into a pulp. Both of his eyes were blackened, his nose was broken horribly out of shape and his face was puffy and black and purple and a few other colors Brian didn't even want to think about.

"You are Guido then? Luigi's boy?" Brian confirmed.

"Si! Si! They want to know about Luigi very bad! But Guido say nothing! They not know that Guido _know_ nothing about Luigi, they think he know everything! They not believe! So they do this! But Guido cannot tell what he do not know! Finally they give up and throw Guido in this dungeon! Have you seen Luigi? Did he escape? Guido very worried!"

Brian had been assessing the situation as Guido talked. He was lying on the bunk in a cell just as Guido had said. Guido sat beside him on the stone floor. There was a combination toilet/sink on the back wall and a high, barred window.

"Yes, Luigi is safe. He is in hiding with Officer White. The restaurant was completely destroyed though. He is worried for you too."

"No! No, Luigi not care! He always yelling and calling me stupido. He should be glad I'm gone."

"Guido, no! Oh that's just his way, you know him, flying off the handle all the time! He really did..."

"AWWWWWW! This is so sweet...I may get diabetes!"

"Stockwell!" Brian jackknifed up at the sound, groaning slightly but otherwise ignoring the _motherfucker_ of a pain shooting through his head. "You have really got round the bend this time! Assault and Battery! False imprisonment! You're finished! When I get out of here..."

"Ah, ah, ah... but you won't get out of here unless I say so! And when I do say so, you`ll be dead!"

Brian did an elaborate double take and scratched his ears as if cleaning them out. "What! You're planning to kill me now?"

"Of course! You know way too much about me to let you live! Besides...what's one less fag in the world! I'll be doing it a favor!"

"You bigoted monster!"

Sticks and stones! So! That fat chef is hiding with Snow White! That means you know where he is hiding! That means..." Stockwell's eyes widened in realization. "All this talk about love and being in love and betrayal! You sending away my surveillance truck! You're his lover!"

"Well! That's got to be the first bit of police work I've seen you do!" snarled Brian.

"So! This whole time! You've just been a filthy spy!"

"Not this whole time! There was a two week interval where I lost track of him. But I'm surprised you're upset that we're lovers Stockwell! After all, you _are_ the one who introduced us!"

"You sick fuck! Enough games! Where is he?"

"I'm not going to tell you that! Besides, knowing where he is...or killing me for that matter, will do you no good! In a few hours, your dirty laundry will be spread all over the internet for anyone to see!"

"What are you talking about?" snarled Stockwell.

'Have you checked your inner safe lately?" Brian smirked, "You know, the one that needs your thumbprint to open?'

All the color drained out of Stockwell's face. "You couldn't! You didn't!"

"I could! I did!"

Where! Where...is...he?"

"You know very well I'm not going to tell you that!"

"Oh yes you will! Even if I have to beat it out of you!"

"Just like you tried to beat it out of Justin? Brian yelled, "Just like you tried to kill him and frame him by planting those drugs?"

"He was too open about his perversion for his own good. I had to get that fag off the force somehow!"

"And that night his hair turned white! He told me all about it. YOU were the one who set them up to be killed! YOU killed Cody! Didn't you! _Didn't you_!"

"Since you're about to die, I guess there's no harm in telling you. Yes, I put in that call, blowing their cover. It was _supposed _to kill two birds with one stone! But Taylor escaped! At least that was the end of that damned Pink Posse!" Stockwell laughed nastily. "Now...enough stalling! Where...is...Snowshine!"

"You're just going to kill me as soon as I tell you," Brian said, "Why should I bother?"

"Because that way I'll just kill you quick. Otherwise I'll just beat it out of you until you just collapse and die from the pain!"

"I can take whatever you dish out!" declared Brian valiantly.

"Oh yeah! And what about your compatriot there? Can you watch while we work over him some more! Watch me shoot out his kneecaps and ankles! He'll never walk again! Take him!"

A young cop appeared from the side and unlocked the cell. He muscled his way in and held Brian at gunpoint while grabbing Guido and hauling him out of the cell. Guido struggled and mewled pitifully but it was no use. There was a sick, meaty sound as the young cop punched Guido in his already bruised face.

"You pathetic monster! Leave him outta this!" Brian snarled.

The cop punched Guido again.  
>"YOU leave him out of this! Tell me what I want to know!" returned Stockwell with an evil sneer.<p>

"Never! Let him go, you SADISTIC SHIT!"

Stockwell turned to the cop. "Shoot out his kneecaps."

Brian's eyes widened. The cop raised his gun.

"You wouldn't! For fuck's sake, he's just a boy!

"Last chance…" Stockwell jerked his head, signalling the cop.

The cop cocked the gun. The hammer slowly moved into position.

Brian slumped in defeat. "Fine! Stop it! Stop it! You win! I'll tell you! I'll tell you! Just let him go!"

"Tell me and I will!"

"Fine! He's hiding out in the basement of a place... There's a secret door. He's in the basement of..." Brian sucked in a breath, pausing dramatically.

TBC


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 16

Meanwhile, down in the basement of Liberty Diner, things were on a state of high alert. Everyone had stopped their regular tasks, shredders were on and at the ready, and the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"Justin! He's cracking! We've got to get out of here! We've got to evacuate!" Blake said frantically.

"Not yet! Wait for my order!" said Justin.

"But Justin..."

"Not yet!"

"But he's torturing them! He's going to tell!"

"He will not tell. He's thinking of something. Wait for it."

"How can you be so sure!"

"Because he loves me. He loves us. He will not tell. Wait for it!"

"But Justin..."

Snowshine stood there like a statue, poised in readiness. His heart was racing a mile a minute. His eyes were as hard and shone like blue steel. His mouth was a thin, hard line.

"Wait for it..." said Snowshine.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

"...Babylon...He's in the basement of Babylon!" Brian said dejectedly

"What are you talking about! I closed that hotbed of perversion weeks ago!"

"Uhhhh...Well, that's what made it the perfect hideout!"Brian invented wildly. "He knew you'd never check a place you'd already cleaned out! Now you know! Let Guido go! For that matter just let him go! He knows nothing about any of this!"

"Too bad! For him!" Stockwell snarled as he threw Guido back into the cell into Brian's waiting arms, throwing them both off balance to give Stockwell enough time to slam the cell door shut again.

"In two hours it'll be 7 PM. Enough time for me to get there and check it out and round them up! However...if you're lying, I'll be back in time to shove you into the crematorium live on his damned webcast! Now won't that be a show!" And laughing evilly, Stockwell slammed his way out of the cellblock.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

"Tell me you got all that," said Brian into his ear.

"We got it! Every sweet, sweet word since you turned on your mike when he arrived on the scene," said Blake in his ear.

You see, when Brian had shook his head and "cleaned out his ear" he was really turning on his tiny ear mike. And everything that Stockwell had said, had confessed, was now new material for !

As tense as it had been under the Diner, that's how relieved and joyful it was now! The shredders were all turned off. Everybody was cheering and hugging and laughing and weeping for joy. But Justin was just slumped wearily in a chair a relieved smile stretching his face.

"However," Came Brian's voice, "You heard him. I've only bought you some time. I'd rather not be here at 7 when he gets back and throws me in the oven. How 'bout a rescue here, before Guido and I end up as a Hansel and Gretel?"

"Not to worry, my love," returned Justin's sweet voice that was music to his ears, "A detail is on its way and you shall be out of there by 6."

He switched off and told Blake curtly, "Make it happen."

Blake knew that tone. He picked up his phone, punched in the right numbers and made it happen.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

6:00 PM Basement holding cell jailhouse...

The basement jail was a fairly casual affair. A door from the street opened into an outer office that housed a couple of desks, office equipment and two cops, one fat and one lean. There was an inner door that led to the holding cells that was always locked.

The two partners worked a lot together but they disagreed on what to eat a lot. Therefore they ordered pizza a lot including tonight. They ordered an extra large with 3 types of meat on one half for the fat cop. The lean cop couldn't stand the thought of all that fat so his side was vegetarian and between the both of them they had managed to clean out the box. Neither of them thought to offer the prisoners anything.

On the stroke of 6 a tall, lithe woman with long, blond hair entered the jailhouse from the street. She was dressed in a slinky, black, leather catsuit, complete with leather boots and a whip.

The straight cops were reduced to gibbering mush in seconds. Vixen sighed as she listened to the same old come-ons and Batman/Catwoman jokes before she finally bothered to speak.

"I'm here to visit Brian Kinney, who is in one of your cells in the back," she said.

"Who? What are you talking about?" said the lean cop in what seemed like genuine confusion.

However, Vixen was no fool. She narrowed her eyes and watched them closely. The fat cop's eyes flickered toward the lean ones in a flash but Vixen caught it. Ah ha! They were lying!

"You know what I'm talking about. The man you have unlawfully locked up in a cell back there. I've come to visit him. Well, no, now, I'm not really telling the truth now. I've come to break him out. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which do you prefer?"

Both cops thought she was hilarious. They guffawed loudly and boorishly just as she had known they would.

"Let's do it the _hard_ way," said the fat cop.

"Yeah. God knows I've been hard ever since you walked into this place," sneered the lean cop.

"Oh my! Such big strong men! I'm so glad! I was so hoping you'd say that! I much prefer the hard way! But I'm sorry. I'm afraid you boys are barking up the wrong tree as far as I'm concerned."

She put two fingers into her mouth and gave a long, loud, piercing whistle.

The outer door opened and a leather man dressed in full leather, a tall, thin man with sandy hair and a charming gap in his front teeth, a man with dark, wavy hair and green eyes in a black suit and tight black leather gloves, and a tall bodybuilder type entered the jail and stood behind Vixen in a V formation.

"The hard way?" asked the leather man.

"Yup," confirmed Vixen.

"Oh, goody, goody goo!" enthused the tall gap-toothed man. He was also dressed in a tight fitting black ninja suit, although on him it was a LOT less flattering. "I absolutely _adore_ the hard way!" He clapped his hands like a little kid.

Vixen smiled over at him in fraternal affection. "You know, Swishy! That's just what I said!"

"Hey! What's going on here! You all can't be in here at the same time!" yelled the lean cop but he couldn't banish the fear that invaded his voice.

"This is the hard way," answered Vixen.

"Bu...bu...but...but..." said the fat cop.

"I'm not really a butt man," said leather man, "But now you _are_ giving me all sorts of delicious ideas!"

"But...but...but...but..." gibbered the fat cop, backing away.

"Butt..butt...butt...I see what you mean, Accountant! Such interesting ideas!" said Swishy.

"Hon...I'm a little nervous," said the bodybuilder. He wore tight black jeans and a black t- shirt that molded to his pecs, biceps, and stomach like a second skin. He wore tight, black, leather gloves.

"What's the matter, Zen?" asked the man in the black suit.

"This is my first time. I don't know a lot of fancy fighting like you guys do. What if I screw it up?"

"You know how to use your fists, don't you? Don't worry, you'll do fine, Zen. Just hang back, watch us, and when the time is right help us hold them down. OK Zen?"

Zen smiled. "OK. Thanks Winner. I love you."

Michael smiled and smashed his lips to the strongman in a quick, hard kiss. "I love you too!"

The cops looked on in disbelief. What was going on here?

They both reached for their guns. "Reach for the sky!" they yelled.

"Ah, ah, ah! Let's take those out of the equation, shall we?" said Vixen. She snapped her whip faster than thought and in two CRACK! CRACK!'s, the two cops were easily disarmed.

Ululating wilding, Vixen flipped forward.

The four men emitted their own unique battle cries and jumped and flipped and rushed forward as well.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

6:05 PM

Brian listened behind locked doors to faint battle cries and whoops and smashing and crashing and cries of pain and wished with all his might that he were a part of it. But steel bars are what they are and so he just listened in agony and waited there in tense readiness.

In another minute, he heard a terse request: "Keys!" and then a rattle and a jingling and the door to the cellblock opened.

"Brian!" called Vixen, "Brian! Where are you!"

"Here! Down here!" Brian yelled, rattling his bars to indicate how far down the hall he was.

Vixen was there in two shakes and in another two minutes after trying several keys, finally found the correct one and unlocked the cell. They rushed out and helped Guido who was the worst off. Down the hall. Out the door to the outer office where an astounding sight met Brian's eyes.

The entire outer office was a shambles. The phones were ripped out of the wall. One desk was smashed into toothpicks. The other desk and chairs were overturned. Office equipment, the computers, pens, papers all the way down to paperclips were strewn everywhere.

In the middle of it all, the fat cop was lying on his stomach, his arms and legs tied together behind him in a tight hog-tie. However, the boys were enjoying their work as they were just finishing tying the lean cop in such a way that his legs went through the middle of the fat cop's legs and his body went through the middle of the fat cop's arms. He lay over the fat cop's back in doggie style and the fat cop's hands were touching the lean cop's ass. They were trussed together that way and the lean cop's arms were tied in front of him and affixed over the fat cop's mouth in a permanent glove over mouth gag. The lean cop was gagged with a hankie and some duct tape.

"There! That ought to satisfy a couple of butt men like you!" Winner ground out in vicious heterophobic hate.

And with that, they all quit the building and ran with all their might for the Fag Wag which was idling around the corner in the alley with a now familiar red head waiting behind the wheel.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

6:15 PM

"For the last time, this place does NOT have a basement...secret or otherwise!" said Grimhook.

Grimhook wasn't his real name of course. It was the handle of the owner, general caretaker and head bouncer of Babylon. Well, he _had _been that is. Since the _asshole_ across from him had shut down his club 'on moral grounds', Meathook had taken him in but despite his burly physique and take no shit attitude, Grimhook missed Babylon and its rather tamer crowd terribly. Heavy S/M and leather was not his scene. But a job was a job.

"I know there is!" ground out Stockwell, "I have it from a very reliable source that a wanted criminal, this Snowshine, has infiltrated your club and is using the basement through a secret door! Show us where it is...or you can join him in the slammer and I swear, I'll tie you up in there with so much red tape you won't get out for at least a year!"

"You can't do that!" yelled Grimhook.

"Watch me!" sneered Stockwell malevolently.

Seething with rage, Grimhook unlocked the door and ushered the two cops inside. It was weird, the second cop was young and determined but there was also a strange apologetic look on his face.

"I really don't know what you're talking about. If there was a secret door, I would have found it years ago. Unless...of course...there's a chance there could be something in the back end," said Grimhook, determined to have his revenge.

"Where!" screamed Stockwell.

"Over there," Grimhook pointed, "Through that door over there. There's a kind of room...in the back. It's dark a lot, so it'd be a perfect spot for a secret door."

Stockwell and his crony hustled back through the door into the back room and in the mean time, Grimhook made a trip to collect something from his office. When he got back, he stood in the doorway of the back room leaning against the side with his burly arms crossed. He watched with amusement as the two officers were studiously feeling over every inch on the stone walls looking for hollow spaces and cracks that would reveal a hidden door.

"Why are there extra smooth spaces on the wall?" asked the young cop.  
>"And why is the floor slippery in places?" asked Stockwell.<p>

Grimhook smiled vindictively. "You closed us down so fast we never got a chance to clean up properly. Those are cum stains."

"Cum stains!" they screamed in horror.

"What did you expect to find in the back room of Babylon!" cried Grimhook in a loud voice with deep, resounding peals of laughter. The noise reverberated into the back room as a kind of echo chamber and disoriented the cops even further. They slipped and fell and smashed against the cummy walls more than once before they were able to finally flee the chamber as if they had just found out they were in a room infected with leprosy. Grimhook's laughter followed them every step of the way.

"Now! If you're finally finished acting like a couple of fools, look at this!" Grimhook boomed. He went over to the bar and unrolled the blueprints he has gotten from his office. "These are the plans for Babylon! You see! No windows. Concrete walls all around. A solid foundation! No basement! Not even a parking garage! People who come here, park on the street! That`s why we built up and not down!" he roared, working himself into a real state. "Now! If there's nothing else...get the HELL out of my club!" Grimhook roared and expanded and flexed every muscle in his upper body. It made him seem to grow twice as big as he was and he knew it. It was his most intimidating pose and made him look like a huge giant of old.

The two cops fairly ran for their lives.

"Kinney! Of course!" Stockwell railed, when they were safe in their car, "I should have known he would have never willingly given us the right location! When I get back to the station, he's dead! And I swear, Snowshine will suffer a political death and if I have my way a real one too! Even if it takes the rest of my life, Snowshine will DIIIIIEEEEE!"

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

20 minutes later...

"NO! NO! NO! They can't have escaped! They can't be gone! NOOO!"

It was 6:35 PM. They had turned on every siren, ran every light and leaned on the gas the whole way to get here this quick. And what had they come back to?

A ruined office. An empty jail. And two cops bound and gagged in a disgusting position that had Snowshine and his degenerate friends' fingerprints all over it.

Stockwell stood there seething with rage and...something else his young cohort could not put his finger on as the young cop untied his fellow officers. (Oh, this is ridiculous, we simply cannot continue to call this fellow, young cop any longer, his name was Officer Hunter.)

As he untied them, Officer Hunter watched his boss (Master, was more like it) with hating, wary eyes. He did not enjoy his conscripted servitude but he remembered as Stockwell had nearly choked the life out of him and his threats besides and so he did not dare to disobey. He knew Stockwell was on the edge, if not over the edge of sanity and would not hesitate on carrying out his threats. But still he watched...and waited for a time when he could turn on his Master and gain his freedom.

When they were finally free, Stockwell demanded to know what had happened.

The two cops embarked on their wild tale of a beautiful and deadly Catwoman who came in declaring that she was here to free Kinney and then did so with an army of bizarre fags at her disposal, who had overwhelmed them with martial arts. The whole thing had taken a matter of minutes and the result was that in spite of being destined for doom at 7, they had saved and snatched Kinney and the Italian boy away an hour earlier at 6 PM.

The cops quaked and stammered and interrupted each other a great deal, and so, the tale that was completely true and rather short took twice as long then it should have to tell and sounded completely ridiculous. And all of a sudden it was 6:50 PM and too late to do anything even if he had wanted.

"SSSIIIIIIIIILLEEEENNNCCE!" Stockwell screamed finally.

The other officers were properly shocked into silence.  
>"Did you <em>geniuses<em> glean anything! A name? Where they were going? Anything!" screamed Stockwell.

"Sorry Chief! They used weird code names and there was a leatherman but otherwise they were all dressed in black outfits and moved like ninjas. They didn't say where they were going."

Stockwell was apoplectic with rage. He screamed animalistically to the sky. The vein in his temple throbbed. He picked an overturned computer and kicked its screen in to smithereens. But also, deep within him, he felt the stab of icy fear. He had no leverage. He had no idea where to find Snowshine. They had stolen his treasures. And his webcast was now in...five minutes.

The three other cops quailed and cowered before the Chief's insanity and wrath. Finally, he was spent and just stood there heaving wildly in what he hoped he could pass off as rage.

His doom had come upon him.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

Meanwhile, underneath the Liberty Diner, the mood was quite different. Everyone was safe and warm and secure in the underground lair, which, thanks to Brian, still remained a fantastic secret.

When they first got into the Diner, they were happy to just take a breather and sit in booths and stools while Red pulled the shades. They had only been sitting there for a few minutes when a patron came up to them offering his help, as he was a doctor. In fact, Brian recognized him as the doctor who had discovered the lump in his testicle when he went to the baths. God that seemed an age ago!

How's everything going, Brian?" he asked as he looked Guido over.

"Oh you know me. Apple a day. Otherwise...sometimes you feel like a nut," Brian quipped in his dry way as he had when he first found out he'd need a plastic replacement ball.

"The doctor laughed and then was sober. "All right, Guido. You might want to brace yourself...because this is really going to hurt."

There was a loud CRUNCH!...as the doctor re-broke his nose and set it into the right position. Guido cried out softly and squeezed Lindsay's hand very hard but otherwise was very brave. And then it was over and done. "Gratzi!" said Guido.

"He should still go to the hospital. Have it checked out and taped up. But this should make their job a lot easier."

"We'll be able to go a little after 7. But we're still wanted men. The police did this to him to get to Snowshine and us," said Brian.

"What! That's monstrous!" said the doctor.

"Not to mention what he did to me," Brian showed him the goose egg on the base of his skull.

The doctor looked him over, tested the tenderness, and made disapproving clucking noises. "Hmmmm...hard to tell, hard to tell! Any blurred...double vision?"

"No."

Dizziness? Vertigo? Tinnitus? Light sensitivity?"

"No."

"Has he shown any signs of confusion? Seizures?" the doctor asked them. The answer was no.

"Well, I don't think you're in danger of concussion but you should get checked out again in 24 and then 48 hours. And I should check your pupils."

"Is there any way, YOU could be our doctor in all this and do any taping and whatnot?" asked Brian. "I can pay you of course. The thing is we'll have to swear you to secrecy. Join us. Join the Stop Prop 14 movement and be our doctor."

"What an extraordinary idea! I'd planned to vote Snowshine anyway but yes! Yes, I'd love to join you and be all hands on! Just let me get my doctor's bag from the car!"

"Vixen, run on ahead and tell the Exterminator we need him," said Red.

As Linds ran to the kitchen and the doctor ran out the door to get his bag, Red continued, "OK, I think the coast is clear. You guys follow her and I'll stay here with Brian and Guido to make sure the Doc comes back alone and get checked for bugs. Brian, you'll have to be checked as you were in enemy territory and unconscious to boot. You too Guido."

"Oh that's right!" Brian became a little more tight lipped and he warned Guido to be quiet as well. Winner, Zen, and Swish Stick went downstairs.

In no time, the doctor came back in. He checked Brian's pupils and was glad to find they were the same size. Blake came up and they were all swept for bugs. The doctor was clean but Brian and Guido were peppered with pin bugs. However, they were all found at last and were introduced to Red's good friend, the meat tenderizer.

And then, _finally,_ it was down the stairs, through the wardrobe and into the underground lair and they were safe. Again, Brian and Justin snapped together as if they were magnets and after a mind melting kiss that lasted many minutes, they still did not let go. Everyone who had a loved one snapped together as well and even a few singles made eye contact and came together for a quick celebratory kiss.

"Brian! I'mmm—mmmmmm—so glad you're—mmmmmm—back! I was so worried!" said Snowshine between kisses.

"Worried I was going to spill the beans!" growled out Brian in mock hurt.

"It was a pretty tense moment for everyone else. But I never doubted you. Not for one moment, my love!" They kissed. "Oh Brian! My beautiful, faithful, loyal lover! More and more you are becoming my Prince!"

"Becoming! Surely with this demonstration, you should know that I am!" said Brian.

"Not quite yet. Nearly. But not quite yet."

"Well, here's another gift that will hopefully tip the scales in my favor," said Brian, "I got us a doctor!" He explained and then introduced the doctor (Doctor Gilles, but within a few minutes at his insistence everyone began calling him Dr. Joe.) to Snowshine.

"Oh Brian, how clever of you! Dr. Joe, welcome! And thank you so much for finding what you did all that time ago! You may have saved Brian's life!" Snowshine shook him warmly by the hand and kissed his cheek. You will stay and be our doctor and advisor, won't you?"

"I will indeed. I – I was going to vote for you anyway...Thank you, Mr. Snowshine!" Dr. Joe said awkwardly as one does when one meets a celebrity.

"Just...Snowshine...please. And hopefully soon you will not need to call me that much longer." Snowshine drifted away and Dr. Joe got busy taping Guido's nose in place.

Suddenly there was a big white ball of a man barrelling through the crowd. People scattered or were knocked over like ten pins if they didn't. "Guido! Guido! Where's my Guido! Dios mio! What they do to my Guido!"

But Guido was still bitter and huffed in disbelief. "Hmmmph! What you care? You get away. Why you care about anything else? Guido just a stupido, remember! You no care!"

"Oh Guido, I sorry! I worry sick! I tell everybody you like son to me. I guess I should have told you that more. You no stupido anymore! I no call you that anymore! I promise!"

"Like...son? Really? You miss me?" Guido asked.

"Si! Si! Really! I not call you stupido anymore. And when we get new restaurant...you be partner! You work computer side of things and online stuff. You be partner?"

"Oh yes! Yes! Oh Guido want nothing better! You no worry! I have lots of ideas for website. We be rich again, really rich in no time!" the two men hugged with Guido protecting his nose.

Brian and Justin watched the reunion at a distance. Their hearts swelled as they kissed some more. The room was packed and one area of the wall was being set apart and dressed for the webcast. After the success of the first one, they decided to just make the set out in the main room as _everybody_wanted to watch.

The clock got closer to seven. A strange energy, a wild excitement began to fill the room. Everyone moved a little faster. Talked a little louder. The set dressers put the finishing touches on the simple set and Swish Stick milled about supervising and worrying at the top of his voice.

Suddenly the Playroom door opened and Gus rushed out, "Mommy, Mommy , are you back yet?"

Brian felt a strange constriction in his chest and he dragged in a huge breath and finally yelled, "Gus! Over here!"

Gus' head whipped around and then next moment he was running pell mell across the crowded floor. "Daddy! Daddy!" he shrieked.

And then he was jumping and Brian had his arms out and Gus landed in them like it was planned and Brian was hugging, hugging, hugging his son for all he was worth.

Finally Gus pulled back. "So...I hear you got yourself captured," he said in a more serious, softer tone.

"He got the drop on me, that's true. But Justin saved me again and for the last time. I'm never going back there again. I quit him forever. From now on, I'm all yours...and Justin's," he amended, hugging the white-haired man. "Are we still on for...for that planet place?"

"The planetarium. And yes, I'm holding you to that," said Gus.

Brian laughed and hugged and kissed Gus on the cheek in rapture. "I can't wait. Oh, I love you! My sweet Sonny Boy!"

There was a giggle but this one didn't come from Gus. Brian looked over and saw a few more kids on the floor. Gus had left the Playroom door open as little boys are wont to do and a number of kids were gravitating toward their parents or following their friends. Not everybody decided to leave the safety of the Playroom but soon the floor was milling around with children.

The strange excitement and energy grew even more intense. Things got crazier, and more and more fantastic. Things were already hyper and now added to that were real hyperactive kids screaming and running around and playing tag and using the adult's legs as protection. Emmett was in hysterics, using his own body as a barrier to stop any kids from ruining his work. Any actual office work had now been abandoned and people gay and straight were just laughing and talking and kissing and playing with the children and otherwise goofing off, running out the clock. The only thing that was missing was food.

"Who's hungry!" yelled Red's strident voice as she, Luigi, Guido, and Kiki, came striding through the wardrobe door each with two large platters piled high with cookies and small meat pies and sausage rolls and of course, lemon bars.

There was a massive cheering and roar of appreciation and screams of children and a rush for the food. Even more children spilled out of the Playroom.

And then, quite suddenly, it was five to seven and it was nearly time.

Justin moved to a central location and yelled, "Everybody! Quiet please! Everybody! Can I have your attention please!"

There was no response. The good-natured pandemonium continued, not because anyone wished to be disobedient, but simply because they couldn't hear him.

A loud, shrill whistle cut through the noise like a hot knife through butter. Everybody quieted and looked around. Gus took his fingers out of his mouth and looked around as well, pretending he hadn't had anything to do with it.

"Uh...Thank you. OK, folks, the hour is nearly upon us! All who can keep quiet may stay. However, children, especially, the more younger of you, if you think you are going to be bored and would rather play, now is the time for you to return to the Playroom. Thank you. Blake, now is the time to start downloading that...material...I gave you into the website."

"Already done, Justin!" yelled Blake.

"Excellent! Everybody...take your seats or positions please! Thank you! Here's to a great webcast...and freedom at last!"

There was a great cheer. Many children willingly...and unwillingly went back to the Playroom but a few of the more mature promised to be good and stayed.

"What about you, Gus? Would you rather go back to the Playroom?" asked Brian.

"I want to stay here with you," said Gus, encircling his little arms around Brian's neck. Brian's arms went tighter around his waist and back in response. He was unable to hide his pleasure.

Gus snorted at his sappy look and added dryly, sounding extraordinarily like his father. "Oh please! Don't get full of yourself! I'm just afraid if I take my eyes off you again, you'll be captured and end up a prisoner again."

Brian laughed. "Never fear! The only one who holds me prisoner now is you! And I'm your willing slave!"

Gus rubbed his chin and a playful glint came into his green eyes. "Oh really! Willing slave huh? This _will_ require some consideration!"  
>But Brian merely laughed and swept him away to where a chair had been set up for him, front row center. They sat down, with Gus sitting in his lap.<p>

Justin took his place in front of the camera. He was dressed more casually tonight in chinos and a light blue sweater. He looked up at the clock. "Countdown everybody!" he shouted in joy, " Ten...nine...eight..."  
>Everyone joined in. "Seven...six...five...four...!"<p>

Everywhere else in Pittsburgh where people were logged on to , they were counting down as well.

"Three...two...One...!"

TBC


	18. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

A/N: Well it was a wacky chapter! The story desperately tried to wrap itself up and I in turn desperately tried fight against it as a crucial part of the Snow White story involving apples (maybe) hasn't happened yet. I think it should wrap up in the next chapter or so.

Also I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise for a Major snafu. I had Brian send Stockwell to Babylon which was closed down but earlier, during the Snowshine snowflake flyer campaign, there was a "snowstorm" within Babylon! OOOPS! I couldn't think of any way to undo the damage so I went back and changed the event to happen in Meathook. So the paper snowstorm now happened in Meathook. Sorry about that folks. And now…on with the show…

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 17

"Hello everyone! Welcome to the second broadcast of ! We had a great Q & A session planned but some recent evidence has come to light that changes everything! Many of you will consider this muckraking but I assure you, things are much more serious than that."

"Murder. Attempted murder. False imprisonment. Illegal wire tapping. Money laundering. Illegal high stakes gambling. Narcotics manufacturing and running. The person in question is guilty of all these and more. And who is this guilty person. None other than the paragon of justice, mayoral candidate, and your police chief...James Stockwell!"

"At this time, I would like to request that someone call Internal Affairs or, IA...if you're already watching, please have a representative log on and call us here via skype. There is some evidence you need to see and hear and some of it is for your eyes only...until you deem otherwise of course."

"And of course, Chief Stockwell, you _are _of course welcome to log on and call us as well. You have every right to face your accusers. And of course, we'd love to see it when you are arrested by your own cops! For those cops who are watching to either try to put me down, or out of sympathy for old "Snow", this might be a good time to alert the chief and get him to a computer...now!"

"In the meantime, I'd like to bring out a special guest. If you were watching yesterday, you will remember he called in from his restaurant. The reason he is here and not in his restaurant is because it has been exploded and completely destroyed. I'd like to have Luigi tell you how that happened in his own words. Everyone, please welcome, Luigi and Guido!"

Everybody in the room clapped and, incredibly, the broadcast took on the form of some weird talk show. People watching the show were opened mouthed as they watched the fat chef and his teenage cohort come onscreen. All over the city, people gasped as they saw Guido's puffed and purple face.

Justin hugged Luigi and Guido and then guided them over to a couch and then took his own place in his armchair.

"Now Luigi, why don't you tell us all what happened to you after you called into the show?" Justin asked, steepling his fingers and leaning forward. Now he _really_ looked like a talk show host.

"Si...si...I try...But my English...she not so good," said Luigi bashfully.

"Why don't you tell it in Italian and Guido here can translate," Justin suggested.

"Si! Si!" and Luigi was off, in his own sweet language. He paused only to let Guido then translate. He began to tell the harrowing tale starting with Justin's phone call to tell him to get out, to evacuate and then the phone went dead.

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_Internal Affairs..._

There was a banging on a door and then it was slammed open.

"Calls have been flooding in! There's a website up making allegations against the chief of police!"

"By all means, please come in!" said the door and office owner sarcastically.

His superior ignored him. "Log on and monitor it! I want you to take charge of this!"

"But..."

"See if it's bogus or not, call in...

"But..."

"See who we need to arrest! I want you to take care of this!"

"What's the-..."

"Site's called ! Get on it! I'm counting on you!"

"But..."

SLAM! The door slammed.

Be glad to. Goodbye," said the office owner to the closed door. He made a note on a piece of paper.

Then he quickly logged onto the site. There was a fat man in chef whites gabbling in Italian and a beat up kid translating. Wow! He'd really been put through the ringer! The IA officer listened as the kid told a story about the police raiding their restaurant, killing all the patrons and chasing them into the back alley where they were nearly caught by more officers. They only escaped when the chef made a non-lethal attack with a meat cleaver and then ran off into the night.

"Thank you Luigi," said the youthful, white-haired man, who seemed to be the host of this bizarre talk show, "I'd only like to interject here briefly, for anyone just tuning in, this is not a stunt, or fictional story. These are factual events, involving Pittsburgh police officers sent there by Chief James Stockwell, officers blindly, or fearfully following his orders. Again, please have IA tune us in and if you are, feel free to become part of this discussion by calling us on skype. Our ID is..."

Horvath brought up his skype window and punched in the ID.

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"Chief! Chief! You better get up here! They're saying some pretty damaging things on tonight's webcast of Snowshine! If you don't get up here and call in to defend yourself, it might be too late. Not to mention a lot of the men are riled! Morale's pretty low!" the voice of the walkie talkie squawked.

"Be right up!" Stockwell clipped out. He put his walkie talkie back and sighed heavily. He bent over as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. And tonight, perhaps it was. If they had everything he thought they had, he most likely had no defence.

Slowly, and bent over, suddenly feeling every minute of every hour of every week of every month of every year of his life, he slowly shuffled up the stairs into the main area of the police station where was playing on more than a few screens.

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Luigi and Guido were just starting their next segment of their story when skype's signature ring rang out. Blake answered it and transferred the call to the big screen.

"Hello! And who are you?" asked Justin in his serene way.

"Horvath. Carl Horvath, Internal Affairs! I understand you've been asking us to call you! What's this all about!"

"It's about law and fuckin' order, that's what it's about! It's about justice and that fuckin' JOKE you guys call a chief of police!" yelled out Debbie's strident voice. She had been sitting in the makeshift audience but suddenly she couldn't stand it anymore and she was on her feet in the crowd, her face almost as red as her hair.

"Who was that? Who's in charge there? What's going on over there anyway? Is that a studio? Is this some kind of stunt? If it is, I can tell you right now, that Internal Affairs does NOT take fraudulent calls lightly!"

"**I** am in charge," said Justin, "That was Deb, a loyal friend and advisor. This is not a studio, but the HQ of my mayoral campaign and the people watching are my volunteers. And I assure you, this is NOT a stunt or fraud!"

"Yeah! That's right! You tell him, Jus—uhhh...Snowshine!" came many voices.

"Who are all those people!" barked Horvath. He only saw what everyone else saw when they called in, that is, the stage.

"Blake? Can you do anything?" Justin asked earnestly.

"Already on it. It'll just be a few minutes, sir!" Blake called to Horvath.

While they waited, Justin continued, "I am Snowshine. I am running against Stockwell for mayor because only I know the extent of his evil and the thought of him being in charge of the city is monstrous. While I do not have evidence of all the crimes he has committed, we now have evidence of quite a few including the confession of one murder!"

"Murder! That's a very serious allegation, young man!" said Horvath.

"Yes sir! And we _will _prove it but I'd like it if Luigi could finish his story. It shows how deeply the corruption in the police force goes," said Snowshine.

At that moment the second screen went on for Horvath. It opened up into a kind of split screen for Horvath. On the left was Snowshine and the stage and on the right was a shot showing out into the audience.

Horvath sighed heavily. He was tired and hungry and he wanted to go home an hour ago. He switched to his beaurocratic, "I'm listening but I'm not really listening" voice and said "I heard up to the point where _he_..." indicating Luigi, "...assaulted a police officer with a meat cleaver. I think I can imagine the rest. Can somebody give me the cliff notes version?"

"Honey...you couldn't imagine the rest, if you had the mind of Stephen King!" came the strident woman's voice again and this time Horvath could see that is came from a slightly overweight woman with wild and bushy red hair and a vest that was peppered all over with different slogan buttons. She stood up again and shook her fist at the screen. "It's just that type of "who gives a shit attitude that's allowed that asshole to get away with so much for so long! You need to hear the whole..."

She was interrupted by the skype ringing tone. "Ahhhh, that must be Stockwell!" Snowshine said, giving Blake the signal to answer. Blake did so, and his hated face appeared on the screen, split screened beside Horvath's.

"Don't listen to a word they have to say!" grated his hateful voice, "They're just muckraking and trying to smear my campaign for mayor!"

"And doing a DAMN good job of it too!" yelled Debbie triumphantly.

Catcalls a-plenty rang out. "Homophobe! Asshole! You gotta lot a nerve! Dick!" Were some of the more popular. And a lot of good old fashioned booing.

Snowshine held up his hands for silence and somehow eventually achieved it.

"You know, Stockwell! You could be right! This _could_ be an attempt at muckraking! But it isn't! But let's not take my word for it. As you said, don't listen to us! Let's listen to you! Hit it Blake!"

"Right Justin!" Blake pressed a button.

_"What! You're planning to kill me now?"_

_ "Of course! You know way too much about me to let you live! Besides...what's one less fag in the world! I'll be doing it a favor!"_

_ "You bigoted monster!"_

_ Sticks and stones! So! That fat chef is hiding with Snow White! That means you know where he is hiding! That means..."_

Stockwell gasped. Somehow they'd taped his last conversation with Brian, the one they'd had down in the holding cell. Oh God! The one where he'd... As the recording played, his face slowly drained of color.

And on and on it did play, for him, for all the cops surrounding him, for the triumphant volunteers below the Liberty Diner, for Horvath, whose face got madder and madder and for the entire internet audience to hear.

Until finally: _"Just like you tried to beat it out of Justin? Brian yelled, "Just like you tried to kill him and frame him by planting those drugs?"_

_ "He was too open about his perversion for his own good. I had to get that fag off the force somehow!"_

_ "And that night his hair turned white! He told me all about it. YOU were the one who set them up to be killed! YOU killed Cody! Didn't you! Didn't you!"_

_ "Since you're about to die, I guess there's no harm in telling you. Yes, I put in that call, blowing their cover. It was supposed to kill two birds with one stone! But Taylor escaped! At least that was the end of that damned Pink Posse!"_

The horrified look on Stockwell's face was priceless. Right there. It was over. He was ruined. He was finished, as a mayoral candidate, as police chief, as a free man. With the looks of horror, rage, and disgust his fellow cops were giving him, it was possible his days as a _live _man were over. And still that hateful recording continued.

_"I can take whatever you dish out!" declared Brian valiantly._

_ "Oh yeah! And what about your compatriot there? Can you watch while we work over him some more! Watch me shoot out his kneecaps and ankles! He'll never walk again! Take him!"_

_ Sounds of a cell door unlocking. Guido mewling. Sick, meaty sounds of punching._

_ "You pathetic monster! Leave him outta this!" Brian snarled._

_ More punching._

_ "YOU leave him out of this! Tell me what I want to know!"_

_ "Never! Let him go, you SADISTIC SHIT!"_

_ "Shoot out his kneecaps."_

Horvath's eyes widened.

_ "You wouldn't! For fuck's sake, he's just a boy!_

_"Last chance…"_

There was the sound of a gun moving into position.

"_Fine! Stop it! Stop it! You win! I'll tell you! I'll tell you! Just let him go!"_

Blake pressed the button to halt the damning evidence. It was enough.

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"How could you!" the horrified silence was finally broken by a big, black, musclebound cop. "You killed Cody! And nearly Justin! You're a cop killer!"

As it is with most police fraternities, there was nothing the cops hated more that a murderer who was a cop killer. Especially another cop who had killed one of his own. "Cop killer! Cop killer!" the rest of them began to chant. They all started to advance on Stockwell.

"No! No! You don't understand!" Stockwell backed away slowly. It wasn't like that. I didn't mean it like that. It wasn't...I mean...I mean...He was just a fag! I had to..."

"You idiot! I'm a fag too!" said the burly, black cop.

"YOU ARE!" Stockwell screamed in disbelief.

"You are?" the other cops chorused.

"Yes! I am! And I've never once let it affect my performance as a cop! So what now? After 8 years and 160 arrests...you wanna kill ME now too!"

"Yes!" ground out the demon.

"My God! That guy on the tape was right! You are a bigoted monster! I'm going to..."

"I'm gay too!" burst out another blond and burly cop.

"Swansen? But...but that's impossible! I've been to your house for dinner! I've met your wife!"

"That was a hair salon buddy I asked to pretend with me! I knew you were coming over and didn't want you to know! I actually cared what you thought! Now...suddenly...I don't care so much anymore!" He cracked his knuckles with a crunching noise.

"I'm gay!"

"Me too!"

"I'm not!" someone said, "And I love my wife..."

"Finally..."Stockwell breathed, "A real man! I was feeling surrounded!"

"...But right now, I'm ashamed to be straight! If being straight means being like you...Well...I'd rather throw in my lot with them and turn queer! And make no mistake, old man. You ARE surrounded! And under arrest!"

"That's right!" everybody yelled, closing in.

"No! No! This can't be happening! This is like some sort of nightmare! This is—"

Without warning, Stockwell hefted a printer and smashed the big black cop in the side of the head as he was closest and threw it at a bunch of others. He turned and made a break for it.

A foot stuck out of nowhere and an elbow rammed him in the back making sure he tripped over it. Stockwell fell heavily to the ground. A knee was pressed into his back.

"And just where do you think you're going?" asked Hunter pleasantly.

All his fellow cops cheered. Everyone underneath Liberty Diner cheered.

Then the rest of the cops started to advance again and more than a few started to pound their fists into their palms.

"OK, Hunter, good work there," one of them said, "Now move aside and let us at him."

Hunter swung his gun around at his fellow officers. "Back off! I won't let this become mob justice! He'll stay under arrest until IA gets here! Speaking of which, help! Help me! I don't know how long I'll be able to hold them off! Hurry! I need you to—"

Suddenly there was movement, a kind of twisting, a bucking, and Hunter was thrown off. Stockwell jackknifed up like lightning and karate chopped his wrist. Hunter's gun went skittering away

Next moment, Hunter felt an arm go round his neck and he was pulled up against Stockwell in a hateful hostage embrace. He pulled his own gun and held it to Hunter's temple. His face was twisted with feral hate and evil. It was a terrible sight to behold.

"Back off! That's it! Drop your guns! ALL OF YOU! Or he gets it!"

They had no choice. Stockwell was using Hunter as an effective human shield. They did as they were told.

Everyone in the webshow audience both live and otherwise watched the events with wide-eyed horror. Many hands were held over mouths or hearts. Horvath was on the phone putting out an APB.

"Now, I'm walking out of here! Anyone tries to stop me, he gets it! Then another cop...will get it! Got it!"

Everyone nodded, but many cops' meaty fists clenched over and over reflexively, itching to feel them around his throat.

"But Cody's not the only cop you killed!" came Snowshine's relentless voice from the computer, "You also blew up a car with a cop inside it! You killed Ethan Gold!"

"Oh yeah! Why don't you prove it?" Stockwell snarled.

"We have your financial records that no doubt do exactly that!" Snowshine said smugly.

That disk! That damnable disk! That hitman who had killed Gold's partner! Damn! Damn and double damn!"

"He did! I can see the guilt on his face!" yelled a cop.

"SHUT UP! DAMN YOU Snow White! You've ruined EVERYTHING! I swear if it's the last thing, I do, I'm going to get you! If it takes my last breath, I'm going to KILL YOU, YOU STUPID, MEDDLING, WRETCHED, SNOW WHITE!"

And with those words, he dragged Hunter towards the door, out the door. And then he was gone.

A few minutes later, Hunter came rushing back in, his throat bruised and his voice raspy. "He let me go and ran off!" He indicated the way.

"After him, boys!" A bunch of cops grabbed their guns back and ran out after him.

Hunter came up to the computer screen. "Justin, we're all very sorry!" he rasped, "I guess you'll be mayor now but if you ever wanted back on the force, I'm sure you could get back on, no problem. I'd definitely speak for you!"

"Thank you," said Justin, feeling justified at long last.

"Why would you do that?" asked Guido bitterly, "I remember you! You do this!" He pointed to his face.

"Is this true?" asked Horvath. "Did you beat this young man up and nearly shoot out his kneecaps?"

"Yes sir," Hunter said shamefacedly, his voice slowly coming back, "I was in his service, I regret to say. He forced me. He took my badge and used the number to blackmail me and threatened to kill me and blackball me if I ever disobeyed him."

"It's true," spoke up Brian, "I was there. I heard everything."

"But I never stopped waiting and watching for the opportunity to turn on him and bring him down. I guess my time came...I'm only sorry that I failed you. I'm also...also very sorry, young man."

"I'll also put in the call right away, Justin. Give it five minutes or so to go through but consider yourself no longer a wanted man." Hunter ended the skype call.

The cheering in Snowshine HQ was tumultuous for a few moments.

Snowshine let it go for a little while and then held up his hands. "My friends! My friends!" he started, "We have gained a great victory here but we have suffered a blow as well. Stockwell has escaped! Things are not over!"

Everyone sobered at that.

Then Snowshine turned to the screen and faced Horvath who was still sitting there shellshocked by what he had just witnessed. He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe it. Things like that didn't happen in real life! They happened in bad crime dramas or movies...or maybe fairy tales!

"And now," asked Snowshine icily, "Would you like to hear the rest of Luigi's story now?"

"All right," Horvath said weakly, "Although it almost seems moot at this point. Did you mention financial records?"

"Of course. If you could provide us with a secure e-mail address, we can send them to you. Of course the disk is yours as soon as we get together."

"Right." Horvath sent the addy. Blake sent a soft copy of the financial records. Horvath's eyes bugged out in disbelief. "HOLY SH—I mean, My God! I mean...Is this for real!"

"It is indeed. And now, Guido, Luigi. Please continue. I'm sorry we had to keep you waiting for so long."

Luigi started talking and Guido translated. "It's true I hit an officer with meat cleaver. I'm sorry. But he was holding Guido hostage. I aim very carefully. I hit here...in shoulder," Luigi pointed on his own body to show. "I hit there because I knew it would be non lethal. Man would live. We only wanted to survive, to get away. And we did. We ran down alley... We nearly make it to corner. Then..." Luigi's story continued.

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_A few hours later..._

The webcast was finally over. Nobody seemed to mind that the webcast went over an hour and according to Blake nobody logged out, if anything, the audience only grew.

Luigi and Guido finally got to tell their incredible story in its entirety. Everybody was riveted, especially during the parts about the ninjas.

Then Brian got up and told his story from the time he had come out of the closet to Stockwell and had his skull bashed in for his trouble. Horvath had the gall to ask for evidence even though he said he was just being thorough and by the book. At which point, Dr. Joe stood up and testified that he had examined Brian's goose egg and declared that is was a miracle that he didn`t have a concussion. He also steadfastly declared that he'd give that testimony again...in any court of law. Horvath made a note of it and was forced to back down.

They then informed him about Brian's other testimony and Blake sent him a copy of the hour-long digital recording of all of Brian's knowledge he had acquired during his time as his campaign manager.

But best of all, was when the mayor himself called in and told them he'd been watching. He declared right there and then that Stockwell's campaign was null and void and that Justin was welcome to take over as mayor free and clear in three days time, barring the fact that anyone else decided to throw their hat into the ring. There was cheering and screaming and clapping at this news.

"And now!" screamed Justin at last. "I think this is grounds for a party! A wild, wonderful, block party! Anybody who wants to help us celebrate come to Liberty Avenue! Outside Woody's! Outside Babylon! Both of which, I declare the ban lifted and open again! Outside Liberty Diner. Bring food! Bring alcohol! Bring yourselves! The theme is freedom! Let Freedom Ring!"

"That's right!" screamed Debbie, "For once, ours is the vote that didn't get counted last. Let's take this party TO THE STREETS!"

And that's what they did. They emptied out the Playroom and everybody left that oppressive dungeon room at last and Blake stayed a few minutes to monitor the website but for once he was _not _upset to see a sharp downward spike as thousands of people logged off the site all at once. And then he shut things down and joined his friends.

Up on the streets, the streets outside the Liberty Diner were already full when everybody flooded out of the diner. And a great cheer rose up when at long last, for the first time in many days, a white haired man stepped triumphantly out of the diner front door onto the street and breathed in the sweet smell of fresh, free air, once again.

"Hello everybody! I'm so glad to meet you all! Now…Let's party!"

Everyone screamed and cheered and danced and hugged. Someone climbed on top of a car with a Rainbow flag and waved it triumphantly. A crisp breeze blew down the length of Liberty Avenue. More people arrived with food. Beer and wine flowed. Boomboxes and other devices appeared out of nowhere and soon the street was filled with noisy music, laughter and shouts and screams of happiness. People danced both gay and straight.

And at long last, with the breeze and the celebration, the oppression, the conformity of having so many cops and morality monitors looking over your shoulder, a kind of 'greyness' was swept away and color and freedom was returned to the world.

Justin looked upon it all and was filled with a fierce joy. For such a long time, he had been hunted, alone, friendless. His assets had been taken away and he had been penniless, save what pittance he had managed to get before his funds were frozen. Now that he was free from false charges, he knew they would be thawed.

Moreover, he had thousands of fans, an adopted family, a new job, and a position of power in three days. And not only was he not friendless, he was loved. He was reminded of that fact as he stood there on the sidewalk and felt and arm go around his shoulder and pull him in tight.

"Oh, Snowshine! I'm so proud of you! You did it! You did this!"

"_We_ did this! I couldn't have done it without your support, your testimony, your bravery in the face of danger. You all helped. Oh Brian! I love you! Indeed, more and more you are becoming my Prince!"

"What's this? Am I still not worthy to be called your Prince!"

"Almost! More and more, you are becoming perfect. But you are not yet there."

"Ahhhh! But I was closer than I was yesterday!"

"Yes."

"I was closer than I was this morning!"

"Yes."

"I was closer than I was an hour ago!"

"Yes, my love."

"Then I am becoming more powerful! In fact, I have acquired a new power!"

"Oh my! And what power is that, my Prince?"

Brian waggled his eyebrows. "The power….of mind control!" he said sinisterly.

"Oh my!"

Brian looked deep into his eyes and moved his eyebrows again suggestively. Justin looked a little startled.

"Wha—what are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm using my powers of mind control," said Brian seductively.

Justin looked back deep into his eyes, playing along, "Bend over….drop pants…" he said monotonically. Then he "shook it off" and said reprovingly, "Surely, a prince of your calibre can think of better things to do with your new found powers."

"Funny thing about that," Brian said incorrigibly, "Nothing seems to come to mind!"

And he pulled him in for an all consuming, killer kiss that went on and on. Around them the music played and the people danced and the Rainbow flag flowed in the crisp breeze and lights flashed. The party was just starting and as it continued it grew and grew and Stockwell's oppressive regime was pushed farther and farther away and ended, a dark spell and an evil curse broken at last.

TBC


	19. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

A/N: Surprise! I'm back! Sorry about the lengthy delay but I've been sick and recovering and tired a lot which slowed me down a lot. In addition, I thought this was going to be the last chapter but it kept being too much fun, so it kept going. So I have broken it up into several more chapters and thought I'd post this nugget while I finish up the rest.

Warning: A bit more fan than fic in this chapter. Evil cliffhanger ahead. However with the amount of reviews I'm getting, I doubt anyone will mind. Yeah….so…hintety hint hint!

SNOWSHINE

Chapter18

_Three days later..._

The ceremony really was lovely.

No-one else had thrown their hat into the ring, of course. And time is what it is and marched on and for Justin it marched quickly. Preparations were made but otherwise the days were a routine, the nights were bliss, spent in Brian's arms, in Brian's loft. And then one...two...three, they were gone and the day had arrived.

The day was as gorgeous. The sky was blue with those wispy white clouds throughout. The sun was out and reflected off the snow making the day dazzling bright, reflecting off the snow to an extent people needed sunglasses to protect them from the...yes, yu guessed it...snowshine.

Justin walked up a red carpet that had been rolled down the stairs of Town Hall for the occasion. Brian was by his side, holding his hand as his significant other. A great crowd surrounded them and reached all the way up to the bottom of the stairs of Town Hall. The current mayor was at the top of the stairs waiting for him.

Brian and Justin had dressed in tasteful, matching black suits with white shirts and maroon ties. Both looked incurably sexy.

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Brian squeezed Justin's hand. "How are you doing?" he said for his ears only.

Justin took a deep breath. "It seems surreal. I still can't really believe this is happening. I've been...I was a wanted man for so long. I was like an animal...hiding out...and now I'm mayor! It's so bizarre!"

"But you were never a wanted man...You never should have been," reminded Brian, for what seemed like the million and one-th time. "Stockwell framed you. It was all Stockwell."

"That's true. But even before that...I was just a cop! Oh, God, Brian! What am I doing here! I'm just a cop! I'm just a stupid grunt cop! I can't be mayor!"

Brian's hand tightened in his and then moved up in a sensual path up his arm to his forearm to keep him from bolting. The seductive feeling of his hand moving over his body helped to calm Justin's heart rate as well. Well, it was still quick, but now it was quick, in a positive, life-affirming way.

"First of all, _never_ let me hear you call yourself that again!" Brian whispered furiously, "Never call your fellow cops that again! That was Stockwell's word for you all, and not only was it despicably evil, it was a filthy lie! You were...you ALL were...so much more than that and damn good cops to boot!"

Justin's cheeks warmed and colored at the praise.

"Plus the fact, that we're all going to help you, you've made almost every one of the DWARVESZ an advisor of something, and I'll have your back in whatever you do. And on a more selfish note, I'm damn eager to pound that hot little heinie in the mayor's mansion tonight!"

"Brian!" Justin turned to Brian in turned on shock.

But Brian only winked that slow, deliberate wink, the one that never ceased to make Justin's insides turn to mush. "Get going twat! I'll be right here in front, waiting for you. Get up there and be mayor!" He bent down and kissed him quick, heedless of the crowd.

And so, Justin climbed the stairs carefully, waved to the crowd, who waved back and cheered. He reached the mayor and repeated the necessary oaths, signed all the necessary things and bent his head to receive the mayor's sash, a ribbon pendant with a golden medallion and accepted the congratulations and handshake from the previous mayor and...and...became mayor.

The former mayor clasped his hand and raised it high in a victory wave and Justin lifted his other one in a double raise.

The cheering from the enormous crowd was deafening.

Again, a spontaneous party broke out. It took up the entire street in three blocks in every direction. Food and drinks appeared as if like magic. Music turned on and flash mobs broke out everywhere. Gay and straight couples hooked up everywhere.

And as soon as the legalities were over, Brian ran up the steps and Justin ran down the steps and they met somewhere in the middle. Brian grabbed Justin around his cute little waist and cradled the back of his head with his other hand and bent him back into a deep, long, slow, languorous, consuming kiss that went on and on and never seemed to end. Justin groaned in pleasure but eventually remembered where they were and who he was. He struggled to come up for air and when they did, he said, "Brian...everybody...they might not like..."

"When has that ever stopped us before?" Brian answered back incorrigibly, giving him another long slow wink, "Besides...look! Everyone could care less!"

And Justin did look and it was true. The crazy, instant party was in full swing and everyone was laughing and dancing and kissing and hugging all around them and no one was paying them any mind at all.

And so of course, Justin looked up into his lover's face with heavy lidded happiness and said one word: "More."

Brian smiled wolfishly, dipped him again and kissed him witless with a kiss that went on and on, as around them all the people rejoiced.

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Well, that's not quite right. One person did not rejoice.

Elsewhere, in quite a different area of town, in a dark and evil slum, underneath a viaduct, in an old and creepy house now lived an old and evil and creepy troll of a man.

The house had a rusty iron bar fence around it, with each bar fashioned into a wicked spike. Of course, Stockwell had searched his way around it until he found a particularly rusty bar and had kicked it in.

Inside the fence, the house loomed three stories and condemned under a viaduct. The windows and doors had been boarded up with plywood. There were gables and chimneys and a turret tower and an even taller turret tower. It was so scary looking it made the Bates mansion look like a Norman Rockwell painting.* This suited Stockwell just fine as he became the real life "ghost" to haunt this house.

Let us gloss over the exact details of how he managed to break into and then squat in this dismal domicile. The only other detail that needs to be recorded is that he had only managed to drain his chequing account before the authorities got ahold of it so he had a paltry sum to keep going for a few days. But, then again, he figured he would only need a few more days in this stupid burg to achieve his ultimate goal and then move on. He had been unable to access his vast fortune of ill-gotten gains as IA saw fit to take their thumb out of their butt and move faster than the police Dept. did when Justin had been made a fugitive. All that lovely, lovely money in Switzerland and the Caymans was frozen solid. Sigh. Life was so unfair.

So now, here he sat, in this dark, dank, dismal excuse of a house, watching the mayor inauguration ceremony on a TV that was as old as himself. It ran on rabbit ears so the picture was horribly grainy. His eyes squinted in hate as the former mayor raised Justin's arms in a victory salute and then clouded with disgust as Justin and that freak turncoat met in the middle of the stairs and kissed in a deep dip.

As if on cue, the TV flickered and then went grainy and dead. Snow. Great...more snow. Outside, he heard the clanging and banging and then a final crash as the antenna fell loose of its moorings on the roof and fell heavily to the overgrown grounds in the yard.

"Great! Just great!" Stockwell got up and turned the dead TV off and then sat back heavily in the chair from whence he had gotten up.

He was a man transformed but not for the better.

Stockwell once had a face that was lined by his years but still was ruggedly handsome. His blue eyes flashed with righteousness as he would collar scumbag after scumbag and with pride when he decorated his officers when he'd promote them. (Except for Snow White)

As time went on, his handsome face had gotten...hard. (And no, not in the positive, life-affirming way.) His blue eyes rarely flashed with righteousness joy, pride in his men, or anything else positive. Eventually, they became cold and hard like two flint stones that sparked only the fires of anger and disappointment. They became prideful, cunning and cruel and when he was busy in his money making mode, they reflected only pure greed.

Ahhhh...but you know all this already. And still all this was nothing compared with the transformation that had occurred after his expulsion from the Force and hiding out here in this...house...if you could call it that. He had gone to sleep, afraid, furious, hating everyone, just hate, hate HATING everyone and when he awoke he looked and felt like a completely different man, as if he had swallowed a magic potion of old that had turned him into _this_!

He was a completely different man. Body, mind, and soul. Those blue eyes were now bloodshot and squinty with hate. His face was perpetually fixed into a scowl, which doubled the lines in his face and made him look twice as old. His hands had permanently flexed themselves in rage and appeared as talons. And his hair! Oh, his beautiful hair! It had been his crowning achievement, and secretly, he took a pride and joy in it that rivalled any girl. It was as thick and full as it was when he was 20 and was a nice salt and pepper mix that reflected his age nicely. And so he was overcome with horror and rage and shame when he looked into the mirror that first morning after and saw the pepper in his hair had given up and salt had taken over. He had a thick, shaggy, mussy bedhead of white hair!

After he had screamed in shock for at least a minute, he dropped to his knees and was able to comprehend his situation without wanting to throw up. And the first thing he did was curse Snow White's names, both real and fictional for banishing him to this dark and evil lair and for bestowing upon him his Curse of White.

Inside, he was transformed as well. He had been insane for a long time now but he had always been able to conceal his wanton, murderous desires and intents with a veneer of respectability, a fake smile, small talk that would get him through any social situation. And there were times at home with his wife and kids (or mistress) that he actually felt spurts of what he recognized as were happiness and...love. Granted, there was a time lately where his anger had been escaping more and more in the occasional fits of temper. But that wasn't anything one or two (or a dozen) slammed doors couldn't fix.

Since he had escaped, all that had been stripped away and discarded, like a thick, camel hair coat on a hot sunny day. There was no love. No pride. No happiness. Just anger and hate for everybody and especially for Snow White, for Brian, for his fellow cops, half of which seemed to have been on the Dark Side all along. There was no reason to be civil and no one to be civil to, and that dropped away naturally as well. The only thoughts and intents of his heart were evil now, murderous, hateful, plotting, cursing. There was no limit, no restraint. He could have easily stolen candy from a baby, guided a blind man into an open manhole, and murdered someone cheerfully for looking at him the wrong way.

'Ahh, yes, he could,' he thought gleefully, 'But there's only one person I want to kill now. Snow White! But heaven help me who gets in my way!' And thinking such, he began to laugh, loud and long and maniacally.

Because he knew just how he was going to do it.

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That night...

The Inaugural Ball went off without a hitch. It celebrated Babylon's re-opening and, for that matter, was the first such Ball to be held there.

Grimhook was ecstatic to be back to work and had scrubbed the backroom and the rest of Babylon clean as a whistle. Of course, thanks to the lighting, you'd never have guessed. It was as dark and intimate and wild as ever. The go-go boys were muscular and oiled up as ever and the thumpa thumpa music pounded out like it had never stopped.

Along with the gayest of the gay, all the strait-laced straights in their tuxes and gowns were invited as well. The gays knew what to do here, and had the dance floor bumping and grinding in no time but the others stood stiffly at first, unsure of what to do, and as uncomfortable as country mice visiting their town cousins.

When Snowshine and Brian entered, all the straights gasped and the gays cheered.

Brian entered wearing his favourite clubbing clothes, a pair of black jeans that appeared to have been spray painted on him and a black wifebeater. His hair was mussy on purpose and he wore shades. Ever present on his wrist now, was his bracelet of three pearls.

But Snowshine drew the most attention, wide-eyed stares, and gasps, as straight Pittsburgh watched their young new mayor walk in soft dancing shoes, blue jeans, and a red shirt with no midriff. True, he _was_ 25 but he was small and slender with the washboard abs of a cop and a great ass. Despite his white hair, he still looked incredibly youthful and handsome and he pulled off the look flawlessly. As well as the youth, his blue eyes shone and his mouth was cracked into a permanent smile of pure pleasure and unadulterated joy. This was his first night out as a free man and as mayor and he was ecstatic. He hadn't had a date night in years, hadn't been outside or in a bar in over two weeks, and was still getting used to the fact that he didn't have to go back to that downstairs dungeon room. Every so often it would hit him..."Oh, my God...I'm not going back there tonight...or ever again!"...and his smile would crack open afresh.

Brian and Snowshine sashayed their perfect asses straight to the dance floor where they immediately let the thumpa thumpa beat move through their bodies and souls like a second heartbeat. They began a wild dance that was basically them vertically humping. Everyone watched and then joined in. Pretty soon the entire dance floor was dirty dancing, switching partners, switching back, dry leg humping etc. The dirty dancing was so filthy it made the stuff Patrick Swayze did seem like it had been washed in Oxy Clean. A fat dowager lady in a poofy, peach colored dress and a pince-nez murmured, "Well, I never!" and fainted away. Her husband tried to catch her but as he was the tall, stick figure type, he couldn't quite manage it and somehow ended up underneath her, squished flat and completely trapped.

Lindsay and a long, dark-haired woman ran up to help and in so doing, knocked heads. "OWWWWWW!" they both yelled rubbing their heads.

"Help me! Help me!" mewled the poor man piteously.

The two women shook it off and worked together rolling the fat woman off her husband and then made sure the woman's airway was clear. At this point, others started to arrive on the scene to help so they backed off.

Throughout their encounter, Lindsay couldn't shake the feeling that she'd seen the other woman before. But somehow her long, dark hair kept obscuring her face. Now that the crisis was over, they were able to look more closely at each other.

"Do I know you?" asked Lindsay.

"Oh, I don't think so," said the other woman.

"Are you sure? I could have sworn...your voice, it's...wait! Mel! Is that you! Melanie!"

Sheepishly, the woman stood up and brushed her hair back. It was indeed Melanie.

"It _is_ you!" Lindsay was ecstatic. "My God! What are you doing here!"

But Mel had lived her own hard life and did not hear the happiness in Lindsay's voice. "Why shouldn't I be here? This is my home town too! I'd heard they were electing Pittsburgh's first gay mayor and wanted to see for myself. Got a problem with that!"

"Mel, no! I didn't mean it like that! I just meant...I mean I was so surprised to see you! Surprised and happy! I missed you so much!"

"Not so much, I bet!" Mel spat out jealously, "How's Guillaume?"

"Guillaume was a mistake. I only spent a year in France before everything imploded. He never did take to Gus. And Gus! Oh, Mel! Gus is a genius! An honest to goodness genius!"

"Really?'

"Yes! Oh, Mel, I never thought I'd see you again! So many things have changed! My life has been...such an adventure!"

"So I see!" Melanie said, looking her over. Lindsay was wearing her tightest catsuit yet.

"I've missed you terribly! Care to have a sit down and a drink and catch up?" Lindsay held her hand out.

"Melanie took it cautiously. "Fine! _One_ drink! And we'll see!"

Lindsay face was wreathed in smiles. "I love your hair! I've never seen it long before!" she said happily, as they walked toward the bar.

Mel's answer was eaten up by the noise of the crowd.

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Meanwhile, on the dance floor, the wild, erotic dancing continued. By this time, several of the gays had taken pity and a healthy dose of lust upon some of the straights and invited them to dance. At first, the poor straights didn't know what to do. Most of them were the crème de le crème and were used to caviar hor d'oeuvresand ballroom dancing and (shudder) cello music. Not to mention, they had _never_ danced with same sex partners before.The gays smiled wolfishly at that. They were _more_ than happy to pop that cherry!

Gently, they guided them out onto the dance floor, plied them with liquor and drugs and encouraged their stiff spines to bend and flex and their tight asses to unclench.

"Wanna dance?" asked Ted to a stiff tuxedoed man with his nose in the air.

The man looked him up and down. "Sorry! I'm not really into the leather scene," he said in his snobbiest voice.

"Yeah...Neither was I..." Ted answered reasonably, "Then one day I ran into an old school friend who took me down into his dungeon and made me his suck pig."

The tuxedo man's mouth dropped open in comical shock.

"That's the way..." Ted crooned softly. He grasped the man's chin gently in his leathered hand and stroked gently and pulled down. The man's mouth opened wider. The man gave an involuntary shudder at the erotic sensations of the leather. Ted smiled and stuck two fingers in his mouth. The man sucked greedily finding the leather was even more delicious than it had felt. Ted used the fingers to scissor the man's mouth open even wider.

Ted looked deep into the man's wide eyes. "Yeeeesss! Just like that! I think I opened just that wide! And so will you! Now... You... are...coming...with me...to...dance...with...me. Now! Understand boy!"

The man found he could not look away from Ted's hard eyes. "Yes Sir..." he heard a far off voice say and realized it was his own.

Ted laughed in triumph and dragged the man onto the dance floor by his bow tie where he proceeded to rip the man's shirt off and pour a glass of champagne down his throat.

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The hour grew later but the party was just beginning.

From out of the crowd, out of the shadows, a huge, muscled man dressed as a superhero emerged.

"Michael Novotny! Michael Novotny!" he called.

Everyone swung round to view this latest spectacle.

"Oh, my Gawd!" Michael yelled out, "It's Captain Astro! Well..." he amended, "An amazing likeness of him anyway! And you say you're here for me!" he looked over the lycra suit and mask appreciatively. Hey! He may be with Ben now but that didn't mean he couldn't look!

"I am if you are Michael Novotny," said the lycra-ed actor-cum-hero.

"I am," said Michael.

"Well then...this is for you. A belated 30 year birthday gift, a missed milestone!" the hero pulled out an object and handed it to Michael.

"Oh my God! It's a Number one issue of Captain Astro!" screamed Michael. And indeed it was; the comic book was inside a plastic bag to preserve it. At the many blank looks he got he explained, "It's worth several thousand dollars!" At that he got a smattering of applause and then people went back to the party. Well, those that didn't have a thing for tight lycra stretched over big muscles, that is!

"But who? Who did this? I mean...who sent you? Who sent me this?"

"I did," Brian said, stepping out of the crowd and into the circle that had formed. "I should have been at your 30th birthday Michael and quite a few others. So I wanted to make up for that in a big way by getting you a big present. I figure this is what I would have gotten you when you were 30 anyway."

"Oh, thank you, Brian! This means...so much!" Michael gave him a hug which considering what had happened when they first met, Brian considered it a huge step forward. "Oh! But I haven't really been into Capt. Astro for a few years now! I don't suppose...you wouldn't mind...if I re-sold it and used the money for something else!"

"It's your gift! You do what you want with it!" Brian was just glad to have his friend in his arms rather than his gun in his back.

"Mmmmmmm, thanks Bri!" Michael gave an extra squeeze before releasing. A new glint was in his eye as he was already imagining a little comic shop of his own and telling all those homophobic cunts at the Big Q where they could shove that job once and for all.

"Oh and Mikey...that's only half of your gift," Brian drawled, "Here's the other half!" And he spun him around and shoved him into Capt. Astro's arms! Mikey found himself entangled in smooth spandex arms that adjusted him easily and bent him in a deep dip whereupon he was kissed deeply! Whistles and catcalls abounded. Ben stood there with his arms crossed. He was not amused.

"MMMMMMPPPHHH! MMMMMM!" Finally Michael was able to extricate himself from Capt. Astro's lips and arms.

"That was...that was great...but I'm afraid I haven't been into Capt. Astro...that way for quite some time! I have a new hero now!" Michael indicated Ben, whose features softened visibly. "But you must stay for the party...and enjoy yourself!"  
>"You're such a cutie! A pity! But perhaps...one dance? A birthday dance! If it's OK! You do have me for the night, after all!" asked Capt. Astro.<p>

Michael looked over at Ben. "Would that be all right? Just one dance? Please?"

Ben looked at him jealously. "_One_ dance! And when I cut in...that's it!"

"Thanks Ben! Come on! Let's go! It'll be over all too soon!" And he swung Capt. Astro into his arms and around the dance floor where people made room for them and the music magically slowed down to an appropriate waltz level. Michael was in seventh heaven as he lived out an adolescent fantasy. If he had a nickel for every time he'd jerked off to just this scenario, he'd have about as much money as that comic was worth. Michael looked up into the crystal blue eyes of the actor playing his favourite hero and was oblivious to everyone and everything else.

"Mmmmmm...just who are you behind that mask, my hero?" he cooed.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," said Capt. Astro, playing along.

"Is that right? Well...hey! Hands above the waist!" he admonished, slapping a busy hand that had wandered down to cup an asscheek. "Or my boyfriend will kill you!"

"Fair enough!" sighed Capt. Astro, "Sometimes being a hero is hard!"

Michael laughed.

And a few more times slowly around the floor, Michael heard a clock somewhere chime midnight.

And on the last stroke, Michael felt a tap on his shoulder. Michael responded, turned and smiled when he saw Ben.

"Well, I guess that's the end of that," he said to Capt. Astro, "Thanks for a magical dance…and the comic. I'm going to use it to quit my job."

"Well then…It really isn't the end of anything," said Capt Astro, "It seems you face a new beginning. You go back to your own real Prince. And we both but turn…" Here he twirled Michael into Ben's waiting arms. "…yet another page! Who's next!"

And almost immediately, he found his arms full of three men! My goodness! They all started dancing in a tight group dance. Capt. Astro figured wow! This was probably his best gig yet! It got even better as the three men exchanged glances and subtly began to dance Capt. Astro over to the back room.

It really was a great party.

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From out of the crowd, out of the shadows, a huge, muscled man dressed completely in black emerged.

This man was dressed quite differently than Capt. Astro and made quite a different impression. He had been standing in the corner all night and what with the lighting and his dress and his silence, he had eventually blended into the background and had been forgotten.

He was dressed in full, black leather. Knee-high boots, leather chaps, leather shirt, vest, short leather gloves. And a full executioner's mask that laced up behind his head and covered his head and three quarters of his face.

This forbidding figure in black said nothing to anybody as he stalked slowly across the floor. Everybody parted for him as the Red Sea equally as silently.

And since he approached Justin from behind, the new mayor never heard him coming. Brian was off getting them fresh shots of Beam.

The leathered and masked man walked up till he was directly behind Justin.

"Hail to the new mayor!" the man in black said in a deep voice, "I bow to you!" And he did so, deeply at the waist.

"Thanks but I'm sure bowing isn't...necessary!" Justin gasped in shock a little as he turned around to find this forbidding...and erotic figure before him.

"Oh, I know the importance of authority and dominance and submission. And so I bow to you anyway," the masked man said.

"And who are you?" asked Justin politely, although he was beginning to wish Brian would come back.

"My name is Hammer. Jack Hammer." Jack paused to let the titters concerning his name die down. "I am the president of PASM." (Pronounced paz'm) "The Pittsburgh Association of S/M. I was chosen to come and bestow our congratulations on being the first new gay mayor of Pittsburgh and conquering such evil that was your opponent. It must feel good to crush another man under your heel the way you did."

"Not at all. It saddens me that I got this job at the expense of another. In fact, I got the idea to run because I did not want _him_ to run and win unopposed. And yet I ended up winning the same way. But it was not my choice."

"Wasn't it though?" asked Jack Hammer relentlessly, "The way you muckraked him into submission on that last day! He lost the race, his family, his assets, and his freedom all in one move. I tell you, PASM is very impressed with you! We all consider you a sadist of the highest order!"

Snowshine was appalled. The area around him had grown deathly silent except for the thumpa, thumpa music that pulsated through like a second heartbeat.

"No! That's not true! I'm not a sadist at all! I got no pleasure from what I did at all. And I did not muckrake him! Muckraking is assassinating another's character by whatever means necessary when you are afraid of losing! I was already ahead by that second broadcast. Stockwell's character was already dead! I knew it; I just couldn't prove it until that night! And when I did, it was not to muckrake or make him lose, but to bring him to justice and to clear my own name, which _he _had framed!"

Brian was on his way back with the two shots and was halfway through the sea of people when Justin gave this speech. He was filled with pride to see and hear his Snowshine hold his own against even the most forbidding of figures.

"I see!" said Jack Hammer in a conciliatory tone that clearly showed that he did _not_ see. "Well, I meant no disrespect...or distress!" He bowed again. "In fact, I came to offer you a drink. A toast with the official drink of PASM...the appletini!"

"I'm not sure..." said Justin.

"Come, come! Let there be no hard feelings between us! Consider it a hearty congratulations! And a way of making up of any...distress I may have just caused you!" And he produced the two red drinks from the bar behind him where he must have placed them as he came up to Justin.

Justin could feel all the eyes upon him and knew he must do something, anything. The pressures of being in the public eye can truly be a terrible thing, he mused, unless you are willing to roll with the punches.

"Well, I usually prefer Beam," he said, "In fact, my boyfriend is coming back with some now. But I suppose one sip of an appletini couldn't hurt. And I'm all for peacemaking. Very well. Thank you Jack.

Jack smiled widely and handed Justin his drink.

"Congratulations to the new mayor!" Jack toasted in a loud voice. Everybody raised their glasses and drank. Justin raised his glass...

From where he stood a little way off, realization hit Brian in the head like a whack from a baseball bat.

A figure cloaked in black. Snowshine. Apples. Snow White. Black hearts. Good. Evil. An apple as red as blood upon the snow. Black. White...

"No! Snowshine NO! Don't drink it! Stop! Let me through! Let me through! Stop!" The shots of Beam hit the floor with a shatter as he fought his way through the bodies but the more he pushed, the more they seemed to hem him in.

...and drained it.

"And Death to Snow White!" Jack said in a quite different and evil voice. He ripped off his mask. Everyone gasped.

It was, of course, Stockwell. Justin's eyes widened and the martini glass fell unheeding from his fingers to smash on the floor.

"That's right! Look upon me before you die and know who has exterminated you like the vermin you are!" Stockwell yelled insanely. "The GHB I put in there would kill three men! And all I needed was to dispatch one! A black hand snatched out and grabbed Justin's throat. The talon it had become fit perfectly around Justin's white, slender neck. Stockwell pulled him close. "You cost me everything, you little shit! And now I have made you pay! In that knowledge...despair...and DIE!"

"The only one who should despair is you," Snowshine said, "You'll never make it out of here."

He began to choke. Stockwell released him. Brian finally broke through the circle. But it was too late. Justin was spasming. Foam dribbled out of his mouth. Brian knelt beside him and grabbed him. Justin spasmed once...twice, three times...and was still. He was dead.

TBC


	20. Chapter 19

_Last time on Snowshine:_

He began to choke. Stockwell released him. Brian finally broke through the circle. But it was too late. Justin was spasming. Foam dribbled out of his mouth. Brian knelt beside him and grabbed him. Justin spasmed once...twice, three times...and was still. He was dead.

_And now:_

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 19

"NO! NO! You sick bastard! I call you again, You SICK, SADISTIC SHIT!" And Brian stood and punched Stockwell to the ground who was laughing like a maniac in a James Bond movie, as if he had just taken over the world. Stockwell hit the floor and was immediately dogpiled and pummelled by group of large and angry gay men. But Stockwell wouldn't stop laughing. He'd had a complete break and just laughed and laughed and laughed and never felt a blow.

Brian knelt beside his Snowshine, the only bright spot in his life whose light had been snuffed out into darkness. The three pearls on his wrist fixated on a spot in the center of the string and froze there.

"No! No! Call 911! Someone call 911! He yelled hysterically, moving his wrist. Come on! Clack, clack! Move! Like always, you bitches! Move!

But they wouldn't move. They wouldn't move again because Snowshine, his beautiful boy with white hair and blue eyes was dead. The magic of the pearls was real.

"Call 911! Somebody help us! Help me!" he cried out helplessly.

"Call the paramedics! I can help him," said a voice.

Brian looked through blurry eyes and search out who had spoken. "What! What can you do? He's dead!"

Blake forced his way through and knelt beside Brian. "Yes Brian, he is. But I heard Stockwell. This is a GHB drug overdose. In my time as an addict, I dealt with a few overdoses and brought them back like this before." He yelled, "Is there any hydrogen peroxide in this place!"

"Yes, in the bathroom, I think! Why?" someone yelled.

"GET IT NOW...and stop asking useless questions! Oh! And something he can puke into! HURRY!"

Grimhook hurried and within a minute brought a bucket and the required item. It was the longest minute of Brian's life. Each heartbeat seemed to stretch into an hour. Stockwell continued to cackle.

"OK Brian, prop him up. Hold him from behind in a sitting position." Brian did so. Blake pushed the bottle of hydrogen peroxide to Justin's lips and poured a quantity of it down Justin's slack throat. Then, quite brutally, he punched Justin in the stomach several times.

"Blake! What the HELL!" Brian yelled.

"You want your boyfriend back or not!" yelled Blake back, "Come on Justin! Don't you fuckin' let that asshole win!" He punched him twice more before the reflexes kicked in and Justin bent forward and puked the contents of his stomach. He took a huge breath and his eyes fluttered. He looked over at Brian and said, "Brian….I…You…are…." before passing out again.

"Justin! Justin!' Brian screamed but he got no response.

"Brian! It's OK! He's just sleeping. I'm not sure how much the drug was absorbed into his system but at least we got rid of the bulk of it," Blake said.

"THAT was your solution! Punching my boyfriend!" Brian reached for Blake's neck, his hand curved into claws.

"It was the only way to make him throw up! Please Brian, NO!" Blake cried piteously

And as Brian's hands moved forward there was a _clack! _Brian stopped his hands inches from Blake's neck and jerked his wrist. _Clack! Clack!_ The pearls moved! They moved again!

Brian`s hands came closer and closer. "Brian NO! You don`t understand! I'm sorry!" But Brian wasn't listening and his hands were coming closer so Blake just curled into a protective ball and waited for the end.

And then Brian's whole arms went around Blake and he was crushed into consuming strangling hug. "He's alive! They moved! THEY MOVED!"

"OK Brian, OK! They moved!"Blake had no idea what Brian was talking about but if it would make him let him go, he'd agree to anything. "OK! They moved! Just one question! What moved!"

***Please see End Notes

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For three days and three nights, Justin lay in his hospital bed in a coma, neither in this world or the next, as still as death.

And for those three days and three nights Brian never left his side except to eat and relieve himself.

All of the DWARVESZ (and Kiki) came to visit in some capacity. Vixen and Double G came to visit Brian for the most part. Red decided Brian was too thin and brought lemon bars and cannoli from Luigi and stood over him until he ate it all. (Well, the cannoli, not the lemon bars, let's not go nuts here) Kiki would usually come with Red. Winner and Zen came to sit beside Brian for the most part. Brian had to admit that during this time, Michael's hand in his was a rock, a pillar of strength from which he drew power constantly.

"You know..." Mike said one time, "It's odd. When I first saw him, I thought him a street bum, a user. All I wanted was him gone. But now...I can't imagine our lives without him. He's been so brave. HE was the one who stood up to Stockwell. And if it wasn't for him...and you...for both of you...I'd still be that terrible violent and angry man. I understand what you mean now Brian. I'm in love with Ben. But I love you too and he's good for you. And so, by extension, I love him too and also for giving me my new name and status. He WILL get better Brian. I just know it."

"Thanks Mikey," Brian said, giving him a kiss that they now both knew meant as much or as little as they chose to make of it. And as profound as it was for both of them, they never considered it filled with the eroticism that they shared with their lovers.

Swish Stick would come alone or in groups with Mike and Zen Ben or with Ted and Blake. However, he was just too different from Brian to establish a close rapport with him and mostly came to sit on Justin's other side and hold his hand until he would start sniffling too hard whereupon he'd take off for the day.

Ted and Blake would come and offer silent support. They also came to supply Brian with clean clothes as Brian refused to leave the hospital. They also came to do this because Brian recognized them as the only stolid and dependable people in the group. And as well, Brian would now only trust Blake with his loft key and alarm codes.

Blake was now elevated to a special status in Brian's esteem. If he had been called on it directly, he would have denied it expressly. Brian Fucking Kinney did not do hero worship. If anything, _he_ was the hero and everyone should be worshipping him!

However, hero worship was what it was, or as close to what Brian could muster up to it, as much as his pride would allow. As I said, Blake was entrusted with Brian's loft. For house sitting purposes, you understand, and to get him clean clothes. Blake was also given the keys to Brian's 'Vette and instructed to take the "girl" out at least once a day. (To keep the oil running through it, of course) Of course. (Wink wink!)

Whenever they came to visit, Brian's eyes would light up for a second in a way that they _never _did at any other time and for no-one else. He would move aside to a secondary chair and Blake was expected to take Brian's chair by Snowshine. Ted was relegated to Snowshine's other side. Blake would hold Snowshine's hand and whisper to him, convinced that somewhere Justin could hear him. When Brian saw that, he talked to Justin almost all the time, whispering words of sex and love or he would play classical music on an I-pod for him. And when Blake was there, he found his smaller hand engulfed in Brian's other hand, nearly against his will. Eventually, he just learned to accept it.

Brian instructed Red that Blake was to be given anything he asked for at the Diner, no questions asked and he would pay the tab at the end of the month. Blake also received a letter on Snowshine's second day from his landlord telling him his rent on his and Ted's apartment had been paid for a year.

On his next visit to the hospital, Blake screwed up his courage and confronted Brian. "This must stop, Brian! I don't deserve any of this!"

"Too late. It's a done deal. Can't take it back," was the only thing Brian would say before moving over.

"But Brian..." Blake said, moving forward, against his very will, drawn in by the magnetism and gravity that _was _Kinney. "It's too much," he said weakly.

"Toolatedonedealcan'ttakeitback," Brian said stubbornly, all in one breath. And then he grabbed Blake's hand as usual and refused to say anything more about it. Blake sighed, sat, and shrugged at Ted. Arguing with Brian was like trying to ask a hurricane to stop. He was a force of nature in himself.

Ted found the whole thing highly amusing. He saw how uncomfortable it was making Blake but since he was getting to enjoy the benefits in an indirect way and he could tell Brian was grieving and had no serious designs on his boyfriend, he put up with it. And when they were alone, he would make it up to Blake by comforting away his discomfort in any way he could...which meant a whole lot of extra sex...which Blake _did_ enjoy. And so Blake put up with it as well.

Luigi did not visit as he rightly figured that he would be a too boisterous influence in the room and hospital in general. However, with Guido's computer savvy and help, they made a get well card and put in a photograph of a simply _enormous_ pan of lasagne. They explained it had been gotten off the internet but when Justin was well they would hold a banquet and serve a lasagne this big or bigger for Snowshine and friends. The pan was sitting on a banquet table and was fully four chairs long. It would easily feed 20 people. Brian asked Red to tell him thank you and he'd hold him to it.

For those three days, Brian's wrist autonomically jerked every five minutes. He stopped trying to stop or control it. The _clack! clack!_ comforted him day and night. Sometimes it would wake him up. It drove the doctors insane. It drove the nurses insane. It drove the orderlies insane. It drove his friends insane. But he didn't care. He wouldn't stop. He _couldn't _stop at this point. And he _absolutely_ refused to take it off. Every sounding told him that Snowshine was still alive. Every sounding told him that Snowshine was coming back to him. And he _could NOT_ forget the way the pearls had frozen that night and how he had almost lost the light that governed his life now, the light that was brighter than Sunshine.

And then, on the fourth day, after showering and shaving and putting on his clean clothes, Brian stepped out of the bathroom and in response, Justin's heart rate elevated. As if he could sense, Brian's presence deep in his cursed sleep, Justin's heart quickened and his breathing quickened for a moment and all his machines sped up. But he wouldn't wake up.

Brian summoned the doctors and the nurses and the doctor came running but as Justin wouldn't wake, there was little they could do. However a note was made and the doctors grew more hopeful that the dawn would prevail over this twilight death.

Brian held Justin's hand and stroked his palm with his hand. "Come on, Snowshine! Wake up! Please wake up! We're all waiting for you! Luigi wants to cook this fantastic thing for you! Gus misses you! He loves you! We all love you! I...I love you!"

Again Justin's heart rate sped up and then went back to normal.

He stroked his palm and leaned close. "I love you! I love you!" he gasped out hoarsely, "Don't leave me here alone!"

Justin's machines sped up. A strange energy built in the room. Brian realized he could not move away. A strange magnetism built between them and Brian slowly lowered the rest of the way down and kissed Justin's cupid bow lips gently.

For the first time in three days and three nights, Justin's fingers on his right hand twitched. His hand moved. Slowly, his arm rose. Brian watched in pure joy. The arm raised and felt Brian's broad back. It rose to his neck. It buried itself in Brian's hair and pulled him down for another kiss and Brian's lips crashed down willingly. He licked Snowshine's lips experimentally and Snowshine's lips parted just enough weakly. Overjoyed, Brian deepened the kiss and gently plundered his partner's mouth for several long beats.

Finally he pulled up and watched as Snowshine took a deep breath. His eyes fluttered and opened and he awoke.

"Brian...what...what happened? Where...am...I?" he said.

Brian kissed his hand and held it to his cheek. "Oh thank God! You're awake! You were poisoned. You're in the hospital. You've been in a coma for three days."

"Water..." rasped Justin.

Brian rushed to the sink and brought him a paper cup of water, which Justin drank greedily.

"Poison….I don't understand…Who…?" His eyes widened in shock. "Wait! I remember now! A man in black! The party! Stockwell!"

Brian rang for a nurse. "Yes. He was disguised. He fooled all of us until it was too late. He dosed you with GHB! Oh Snowshine! You were dead for a few minutes!"

"Then how is it I am alive?" asked Snowshine, "And Stockwell! What happened to Stockwell!"

At that moment the nurse poked her head in. "Anything wrong Mr. Kinney?" she asked.

"No! Everything's right! Please…get a doctor! He's awake!"

The nurse's mouth was a perfect O of amazement. Then she kicked off and ran down the hall to spread the news.

"Don't worry! Stockwell was dogpiled and sat on until the authorities arrived. He'd had a complete psychotic break. He's in a rubber room until the trial and after that the doctors figure he'll have to be hospitalized for the rest of his days. He'll never see freedom again."

"Oh thank God!" breathed Justin.

"As for how you got back, it was Blake. Blake knew a strange remedy from his drug addict days." Brian quickly outlined Blake's remedy that had Justin chuckling weakly by the end.

"He _punched_ me! Really? You must have been livid!"

"I was! Until it was clear you were alive again! Then I was overjoyed! And now…"

"And now you've been overcompensating by showering the poor boy with gifts," Snowshine accurately predicted.

Brian was suddenly shy. He toed the floor. Well….yeah," he admitted.

"Come here, you!" Justin said and grasped Brian around the neck, pulling him in for another kiss. "You did exactly the right thing," he whispered.

At that moment, the lovers were forced apart by the arrival of the legion of doctors and nurses who invaded their Utopia of two. Brian backed off to let the doctors ask their questions and the nurses take their blood and basically make a necessary nuisance of themselves when all the lovers wanted was to be left alone.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Snowshine needed to stay in the hospital for another few days "for observation" but as he grew stronger and stronger with each passing day, they finally let him go, with a week's worth of antibiotics that he wasn't allergic to, and instructions to have a check up with a doctor after those were gone.

And so, finally, Brian got to take his Snowshine home to the mayor's mansion where they both belonged. And Brian finally got to fu – uh….make love to Snowshine's hot little heinie in nearly every room of said mansion.

And make love it was. At first Brian thought he could revert back to his aloof persona but on the very first night back, as they were falling asleep Snowshine leaned over and whispered in Brian's ear: By the way…I love you too."

Brian slowly turned over to gaze into the crystal blue depths that seemed to intensify and change color every time he looked. And he knew that he'd never get enough.

"Soooooo…you remember that, do you?" he asked.

"Mmmm-hmmm," answered Justin cheekily, propping himself up on his elbow.

"I thought you were still in the coma," Brian said.

"Uh-uh." Snowshine shook his head. "Well….it was kind of an 80-20 deal. But I heard you."

"Oh. Well….since that genie's out of the bottle then….I love you! I love you….I love you….I love you…." Brian flipped Justin over onto his back and kissed him madly, his lips, his neck, his chest, his nipples, his stomach. Over and over he said it until he reached his cock. "And you….I think I'll love you most of all, Scarecrow!"

Justin jackknifed up. "Hey! That's not how the line goes! And she definitely wasn't talking about….UHHHHHH—OHHHHHHHH!"

You see, at that moment Brian had engulfed his leaking cock to the hilt. Brian began a _most _OZ-tastic blowjob that chased all coherent thought out of his brain. He fell back again and moaned and whimpered and arched his back as Brian intensified his ministrations until Justin was hanging onto the headboard for dear life and when he came he wondered how the pleasure he felt could ever be topped. Of course, this is Brian Fucking Kinney we're talking about. Of course it could. And would.

Happily ever after.

TBC

End Notes: OK, technically…I suppose, this could be considered the end of the story. But….it's not! It just kept going and going and….well you get the idea…and it never stopped being fun so I kept going with it. So expect one more chapter. The focus shifts onto another character and Stockwell's fate at the end. So just a warning it seems Brian and Justin's journey ends here.

Regarding Blake's remedy: At the time I decided to include it in the story, I _had just_ seen it on 2 Broke Girls. So I don't know if it's fake or a-real-thing-they-tried-to teach-you-using-the-show sort of thing. I don't know. I guess what I'm trying to say here is: Kids, don't try this at home!

Plus: It looks like the last chapter is running sort of long so I will be posting it in two parts for your reading enjoyment. Shalom!


	21. Chapter 20 part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

A/N: OK! This thing is Done...like...Dinner! I know! I know! I can hear the collective sigh of relief. At last! You shout! Wouldn't that dingbulb EVER shut up! You cry! Well, don't worry I have at Long last! However, at the last count it took 10,039 words to do so. So I've split this chapter up into 2 parts for you.

Re: Blake's last name: OK I don't think the show ever really specified Blake's last name and if it did I can't find it. The site I was using for online episodes have no more viable links anymore and I could not find any full episodes online anymore. Just doctored scenes and clips on You Tube. So I couldn't find what I was looking for. But Carter just popped into my head and it seemed to roll off the tongue, so that's what I used. If anyone _does_ know Blake's last name, let me know and I'll happily change it.

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 20 Part 1

The Tale of the True Hero

If Blake thought what was being done for him was too much while Snowshine was asleep, he had _no idea_ what was about to happen to him now that Snowshine was awake.

Two days after Snowshine was released, Blake and Ted received an embossed, textured, and very fancy calligraphied invitation in the mail. It invited then to Town Hall two days hence for a very special yet unspecified celebration.

That afternoon, the doorbell rang. A fancy tailor with two assistants stood there. He explained that he had been instructed to come to this address and fit Blake Carter and Ted Shmidt for their suits.

"But we didn't buy anything from you!" protested Blake, "We don't own anything fancy!"

"Don't...own...anything...faaaannnn—cy," the tailor wrote this down on small pad.

"Planning on taking out an ad?" Blake asked nastily.

"Oh not at all, not tat tall!" replied the tailor, "Just a personal note. And you mustn't worry! Everything's been paid for! Shall we begin?" And he bustled his way inside as if he owned the place.

For the next two hours, he made Blake and Ted stand on pedestals while he and his assistants swarmed all over them and measured them from every angle and pinned swathes of cloth on them and took meticulous notes.

"So...these suits...I don't suppose you could make mine out of...leather?" asked Ted at one point.

"TED!" gasped Blake, scandalized, "Don't encourage them!"

The tailor looked very sad and regretful. "Oh, Mr. Shmidt, I'm so sorry but no. They are ready and awaiting alteration at this moment. As good as I am at my job, (And I am the BEST in Pittsburgh) I cannot make an entire suit from scratch in one day. Besides, an entire leather suit would make you sweat _most_ unattractively...even dangerously so. However, if I might say so, I love your creativity. Hmmmm...I can make it entirely black...a silk shirt...it'll shine just as leather would but will breathe like you were wearing a dream...with a leather harness criss-crossing your chest and instead of loafers...knee high leather boots. The whole thing should go with a nice Muir cap. With a nice shiny medal on it. How about that?"

"Actually...that sounds good. Very good." Ted approved.

"Excellent!" the tailor was transported out of his funk in two seconds. "The suits will be delivered tomorrow!"

It wasn't long after that, that the tailors finished their work and swarmed out of the apartment chattering and arguing the entire way. The door slammed. The sudden silence was startling.

"Good grief!" cried Blake, "What _was_ all that about?"

That evening, just as Blake was pulling out the pots to make a nice rice pilaf, the doorbell rang. Blake closed his eyes and waited.

The bell rang again.

"OYY! Aren't you going to get it!" Ted yelled.

Blake sighed. Sometimes being the Boy in the relationship was hard. "Coming!" he yelled.

Someone had ordered take out for them from some fancy place called the The Gilded Truffle.

"There's been a mistake," said Blake firmly, "We didn't order anything."

"You are...Blake Car—ter and plus one," asked the head waiter in a black suit and white shirt and everything. He was using a terrible French accent.

"Yeeeeesss," Blake said slowly.

"Zen zare izzz no mistake," returned the head waiter/delivery person, "Every-zing was ordered an hour ago and paid in full." He snapped his fingers imperiously and _he_ marched in like he owned the place!

Silver cart after silver cart came rolling in and soon there was a scrambling and rambling to set up in the dining area. The waiters unfurled a white tablecloth and set out white dishes and silver cutlery and champagne flutes and two crystal goblets for whatever else they wanted to drink.

"Holy Hell! What's all this!" yelled Ted when he saw everything.

There was an entire roast chicken spiced liberally with rosemary and a combination of other spices that made your mouth water. The chicken was surrounded by a ring of baby potatoes. There was a dish of roast vegetables and a bottle of champagne. There was another silver dish filled to the brim with strawberries whose bottom halves had been dipped in chocolate. There was a smaller separate silver dish filled with fresh whipped cream.

Blake just stood there and wondered when exactly he had lost control of his life.

Ted took over and removed the strawberries and cream to the refrigerator for later. He thanked everyone for everything and assured it was not necessary for the live violinist to stay. They assured them that they understood perfectly (wink wink!) and left them with a CD instead. Ted tried to tip them with money from their mad money drawer but was assured everything had been taken care of.

"And please keep everything! Keep the dishes! Thank you for choosing The Gilded Truffle!" finished the waiter as the troupe slammed their way out. Again there was a silence that could be felt.

"But we didn't choose you! You chose us!" ground out Blake to nobody, his hand balled in frustration.

Strains of romantic violin music filled the apartment.

"Never mind, Blake! Maybe you have a secret admirer! Maybe it has to do with the celebration we were invited to! And now we have a nice dish set! And silver! Oh, I've always wanted a silver set! Even if it is just for two! This is fantastic!"

Ted came over and took Blake in his arms and kissed him soundly. Blake's nostrils were filled with the scent of leather that Ted was invariably wearing somewhere on his person. It calmed him and turned him on all at the same time as it always did and as Ted knew it would.

"Come and eat! Eat with me and we'll pretend we're actually at that restaurant and that I called ahead and had it bought out just for you! And after...with the strawberries, I'll take you to bed and..." Ted continued to whisper and Blake's eyes widened and his dick snapped to attention in two seconds flat in response to Ted's suggestions.

And besides...everything was already there. Blake sighed in defeat and let himself be led submissively to the table.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

The next morning, Blake felt better. They had eaten half the chicken and a quarter of the vegetables and the rest were stashed in the refrigerator for leftovers. And afterwards, Ted had swept Blake into his arms and carried him off to bed and stripped him almost naked down to his jockey shorts. After he was sure Blake was ensconced in as many fluffy pillows as possible, Ted had rushed back, got the strawberries and cream and came back, kicking the bedroom door shut with his foot.

For the next hour or so, Ted fed him the chilled strawberries, dipping them in the whipped cream and then kissed him from time to time, tasting the berries on Blake's tongue. Or he'd eat one and let Blake taste. At the same time, all throughout, his other hand gently massaged his cock through Blake's jockeys in this slow, steady, languorous way that slowly and steadily drove Blake insane.

Finally, he could stand it no longer, and flipped Ted over and jumped his bones. They kissed and sucked and fucked for hours and when they finished, Blake was positive he was indented several inches into the mattress.

And so, Blake felt a little better. Until 10 AM on the dot when the doorbell rang.

Blake jumped a foot in the air and landed behind the sofa.

"Well! Aren't you going to get it!" yelled Ted.

"Not on your life!" yelled Blake back.

Sigh. Sometimes being the Sir in the relationship was hard. Ted got the door.

"Oh my God! Blake...You have to come see this!"

Blake got up and strode to the door. "I don't care what it is, I don't want it. You have to turn right arou—OH...MY...GOD!"

It was someone from an exclusive jewellery store. They bore with them a wheeled table with a large selection of jewelled collars. Collars with rubies, with emerald, with diamonds, with studs, with spikes, and some that were solid silver and one of shining solid gold. They were informed they were to choose one for the celebration tomorrow, but of course the one they chose was theirs to keep.

They both were entranced with jewel lust. They tried several of them on Blake before deciding. The solid gold one was just too heavy. The silver one was better but it lacked that certain something. Ted didn't like Blake in red. They tried on a spiked one but decided Blake really wasn't the Spike type and besides the sharp spikes might cause wicked injury one of these days.

Finally, Ted saw it. It was a black leather collar studded with diamonds all the way around. Reverently, he fastened it around Blake's neck and looked at him with shining eyes.

"You...are...the most beautiful…Boy and man, I have ever seen," he told Blake sincerely.

"This is the one," he told the jewellers. The jewellers looked to Blake for confirmation.

"If he likes it, I like it," Blake told them simply.

The jewellers nodded and bowed their way out.

At 2PM the doorbell rang. Blake was on the couch with a compress on his forehead. He pretended he didn't hear anything.

Ted sighed and opened the door. His jaw dropped. Oh boy! Even he thought this latest surprise was over the top.

A blond man and young woman with dark, long bushy hair stood before them. The man wore a white shirt and lederhosen. The woman wore similar dress in female version that included a green, ruffled skirt.

"Greeting from the Hansel and Gretel Candy Shoppe!" ejaculated the man, in a German...Austrian...ish accent, "I am Hansel..." He bowed.

"And I am Gretel," claimed Gretel.

"Great! My kingdom for a Wicked Witch!" sighed out Blake from the sofa.

They ignored him completely. "And together!" they continued gamely, "We have brought you a very special gift...Blake Carter?" they asked Ted hopefully.

Wordlessly, Ted thumbed his way at Blake's direction and opened the door.

Encouraged, Hansel and Gretel hop/skip/pranced their way over, bearing with them, a simply enormous box. "At Hansel and Gretel's, we make candies for _every _age. Therefore, as well for the kinderlings, we make cakes and candy of a more...adult nature. And we were asked to make this one for you, Blake Carter!"

Carefully, Blake opened the box and then nodded wearily and slammed it closed again. "I believe I'm getting a picture. Take it back."

Ted came over and opened the box again. He gasped. He goggled. OH...MY...GOD!

Inside was a very large but very realistic erotic cake in the shape of a penis and balls. The cake was devil's foods cake and the cock was very big and black. The balls were huge; there was even pubic hair in the form of delicate, curly, chocolate shavings. The head of the cock was iced with purple and the coup de grace was that the "penis" had "cum" and there was a line of white fluffy mousse coming from the head of the cock and ending in a generous mound of white.

"Oh God! Who would send such a thing!" cried Ted.

"I'm afraid the sender asked to remain anonymous," said Hansel, a little nervously, "However, he said he knew Mr. Blake here quite well!"

"And...we guarantee satisfaction!" gushed Gretel, gamely soldiering on, "So...tell you what! Try a little of the mousse! If you are not 100% in love with it...we'll take it back!"

"I will not! You just take that back and tell that baa—_mmmpph_!"

But Ted had dipped a finger in the mousse and popped the leathered finger into Blake's open mouth. The mousse was light and airy and sweet and coupled with Ted's leathered glove, Blake was transported to another universe. He nearly passed out with pleasure.

"He'll take it," he heard Ted say from somewhere. Hansel and Gretel giggled as if they had seen this a thousand times and perhaps they had.

Blake was struggling to compose himself. He struggled to get up, to open his eyes but before he could, Ted's finger was in his mouth with that UN-_fucking_-believable mousse along with it and he was down again. And by the time he returned to what passed for reality again, Hansel and Gretel were gone.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

_Several pieces of penis later..._

"So what do you think's going on? Who sent the cake?" asked Ted with his mouth full.

"Isn't it obvious!" returned Blake, "A celebration at Town Hall...new clothes for it...now this...it's Brian! And now that Justin's a bit better, he's no doubt got him involved! But a cock cake! That has Kinney earmarked all over it."

"Oh, well, if it's someone we both know! I was beginning to think you had a stalker...or a secret admirer!" Ted said jealously.

"Even if I did have a secret admirer, never fear...I only have eyes for you!" Blake said.

Ted plopped a dollup of the 'cum' in his mouth and then kissed Blake back into the cushions. The taste of that mousse and Ted's tongue was a combination that was as close to heaven as Blake thought he'd get.

"I'll never understand why...why you do... But that definitely was the right answer," Ted growled as they parted several minutes later. "Although... I'm beginning to understand that saying now."

"What saying?" asked Blake, falling for it.

"Once you go black, you never go back!" Ted said wickedly.

Blake rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother! The only black I need is on your fingers, while you feed me that icing."

Ted's breath hitched in his throat. He _sllloooooowly_ pulled on his gloves and looked down at his beautiful lover. How did he get so lucky? God, he loved him so damn much!

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

At 5PM the doorbell rang.

Now that he knew (was pretty certain) who these gifts were coming from, Blake had mellowed out quite a bit. That, and the _fab-U-lous _ afternoon fuck session. Still, he approached the door warily and treated the knob like it was a poisonous snake. He opened the door in a jerk.

Oh thank heavens!

"It's just our suits ready!" Blake yelled and let them in.

Wait! This couldn't be right! Man after man after man entered, each one with an outfit of clothes, pressed and covered in plastic. Each would deposit their suit, draped over the sofa, bow, and then march out again. There was a strange kind of dance to it as men would march in and one would walk out, but no-one bumped into each other. And they just kept coming.

There were: a formal suit for each of them that were for tomorrow.  
>A matching set of tuxedos, complete with top hat and tails.<p>

Five business suits each from Armani, obviously tailored to their specifications.

Five sets of shiny leather loafers for Blake and three set of loafers and two pairs of knee high leather boots for Ted.

And ties...too many ties to count, of every color, each one silk, and each with their matching handkerchief to be placed in the blazer pocket.

And ten more casual outfits, sweatshirts, hoodies, sneakers and the like all from Abercrombie and Fitch.

"Stop! Stop!" Blake cried at last, "This can't be right! This is all too much! We were only supposed to get a suit for tomorrow!"

"Your benefactor was informed that you hadn't anything fancy. He requested that you do and ordered everything more," said what looked like a butler.

Blake held in forehead and shook his head in consternation. He was done in by his own words.

At last, the last man had come, the last man had gone and the door slammed. The apartment was quiet again and the sofa was invisible underneath all the clothes.

At last he said, "I don't understand! What have I done to deserve such favor? And I can understand the A+F stuff and the suits but...why the tuxedos and top hats? What could we possibly need those for!"

"Wait until tomorrow," said Ted, "There's something. Brian never does anything for nothing."

"I shudder to think," Blake said darkly.

"Oh you! Come along, my darling! Let's eat the rest of that chicken and I'll take you to bed! Tomorrow's an early day, so let's go to sleep early."

Blake sighed and came along.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

It was indeed an early day.

At 9AM they got a wake-up call. A cheery, British voice informed them that a car would be along to pick them up in two hours precisely and to hurry along now. There was a click in Ted's ear.

So, they hurried along. They jockeyed for position in the shower and finally decided to take one together. Blake washed Ted and Ted washed Blake, especially around his asshole. However, Blake suspected nothing until Ted "dropped" the soap. Somehow it became his responsibility to pick it up. Warily, Blake bent over to pick it up and gasped as Ted's dick became stuck up his ass. And then Ted's arms were tight around him and his prostate was being hit with every stroke and Blake was trapped and rendered helpless by the agony and the ecstasy.

The fuck was quick but stellar. Afterwards, they washed up and rinsed off and Ted wrapped Blake in a fluffy towel and kissed him softly. "I love you so damn much!" he told him again. "I—I just love you!"

"I love you too Ted! Is - is there something you want to tell me?"

Ted was vigorously rubbing him down. "No. No, there's nothing." He was looking at the floor.

"There _is _something! What is it?"

Ted looked up and said, "No, there's nothing. It's nothing bad anyway. I – I just want to dress you. Worship you."

"Only if it's you," Blake answered.

Ted's smile was like sunshine. He took Blake in his arms and kissed him deeply. Then he led him into the bedroom and got Blake's suit and still naked as if he were the Boy and Blake were the Sir, he dressed him efficiently but reverently. He buttoned each button in his shirt and put his pants on him and knelt while he put his socks on and put his shoes on and tied up the laces.

"This must be going against your grain. I should be dressing _you_!" Blake said at one point.

"Not today. Quiet now," Was Ted's only answer.

"I don't understand," said Blake.

To this Ted said nothing.

When Blake was dressed, Ted dressed in his own black suit. The tailor was right. The silk looked just like leather but felt like he was wearing nothing. He wore the harness instead of a blazer, the boots and the Muir cap that came with it. He wore tight gloves. And along with Blake, who was wearing his diamond collar, a white shirt, red tie and handkerchief, cream colored slacks and blazer, he was pepper to Blake's salt.

They ate a hurried breakfast and then right on time, there was buzz on the intercom.

They grabbed their particulars and rushed downstairs. They stepped outside. They gasped. Would there be no end to the wonders?

Waiting for them was a white stretch limo with the cheery, British chauffeur waiting for them by the back door. As they appeared, the chauffeur bowed and swept open the door. There was nothing to do but comply and get in but Blake felt smothered, drawn into the limo as inexorably as if he were in a whirlpool being sucked down into a central drain hole.

Inside, it was a moving palace, with all the amenities. There was a flat screen TV, a mini bar, a fridge, room for three people on their seat and three more across the way. There was a phone, which they found served as an intercom and an outside phone. They found this out because just after they drove off, it rang. Blake jumped at the electronic scream.

He answered it warily. It was the driver informing them that they just needed to press 1 for him and 9 to get out and did they want the window up or down?

"Uh...leave it up for now. And thank you, but we don't plan to be calling anyone. Thank you." He hung up.

Blake felt a fraud. He felt like a thief. He felt like he had gotten into someone else's limo that had been standing there and any minute now they would be called out and kicked to the curb and replaced with the rightful owners. He did not understand what was happening, did not understand why Brian would be going to such lengths. Wasn't it enough he had paid their rent for a year? Hadn't he made it clear that even that was too much? Perhaps he had not been forceful enough. But Blake was a gentle soul and it just wasn't in his nature to yell or force his will upon another. But it might look like he would have to screw up his courage and do just that or this...this gentle harassment would never end.

Firmly, he refused any of the luxuries. He wouldn't permit Ted to use anything. Ted pouted for a bit especially when he wasn't even allowed to open the fridge. However a wolfish gleam came into his eye and he said: Well fine! But I know one feature in this limo that I can take advantage of!"

"Oh? What's that?"

"YOU!" And Ted was all over him, kissing and sucking and laving his neck in a way that had Blake turned to mush in a few seconds and kissing him back.

Yes, as far as he knew, Blake still owned himself. Except for a large part of his heart which was more and more being given away to his lover. And so, he allowed Ted to take advantage of him. And he took advantage right back.

TBC


	22. Chapter 20 part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or it's characters. They belong to Cowlip and whatnot and so forth. This is fanfic, just for fun and will not generate any money whatsoever.

REVIEWS! REVIEWS! REVIEWS! All are welcome! All Are welcome! Cheers AND Jeers encouraged! Anything! Let me know what you are thinking, esp the reader in Isreal! And Romania! And Libya! Yes, that's right, I see you too!

And now:

SNOWSHINE

Chapter 20 Part 2

The Tale of a True Hero

And finally, they arrived at Town Hall.

Blake and Ted disengaged from each other. They rubbernecked out the window while they waited for the driver, astonished.

"It's packed! Almost as packed as the Inauguration!" gasped Ted.

"This can't be about what happened at the party! It just can't! Oh Teddy, I only…I mean I never asked for….I never meant for…"

Ted shrugged. "I don't know. But everything will turn out all right. I'll be right with you, every step of the way."

The driver opened the door. They got out. They had been driven right up in front of the steps and there was a red carpet leading up them. The red carpet was barricaded off on both sides all the way up with velvet ropes but people were crowded on both sides of the carpet. At the top there were chairs, a podium, and a drape along the top of the door.

As they got out, everyone turned to look at them. Every eye was upon them. Deliberately, Blake grabbed Ted's hand and held on for dear life. If there were any homophobes in the crowd, well that was just too bad. They'd been asked to come here, not the other way around. He wasn't going to conform for them now, especially now when he felt so nervous.

Everyone continued to eyeball them. Blake eyeballed them right back. There was a moment or two of total silence.

Then, everyone, all at once and all in one accord, burst out cheering and hollering. Confetti filled the air as if by magic. People jumped up and down and screamed. It was an outpouring of absolute joy and celebration and Blake looked upon it in total confusion. This STILL couldn't be about the party! Could it? Oh God! How much more of this could he take? Why wouldn't Brian leave him alone about that?

Well, maybe it wasn't. Maybe...He looked behind him and half expected to see his favourite celebrities, Gale Harold and Randy Harrison standing behind them in a 'people-are-cheering-for-someone-directly-behind-you' move. Maybe even Peter Paige. But there was no-one. There was only the driver leaning against the car, his cheery smile now combined with a liberal dose of smugness. '_I_ drove them here!' it said.

The cheering took on a steady roar, like an oncoming train, or the constant crash of huge ocean waves. Blake felt as if he needed to push against it as a physical force as he stepped forward. After all, there was only one way to go now, up the cleared carpet to the top. And that's where Blake marched now.

At the top was...well a bit more breathing room anyway. There was a podium and a stage-like area and off to the side but in clear view of everyone were two soft, leather armchairs. To the other side of the podium was a semicircle of a number of chairs, upholstered in purple velvet. The very center purple chair was half the size as the rest as if made for a very small person.

Just as they reached the very top the doors to Town Hall opened and Brian came out looking very smart in a black suit and a charcoal blue tie. He waved to the crowd and shook Blake's hand and then Ted's and said, "Blake, Ted, thanks for coming!"

"**YOU!**" Blake turned on him in a real rage, "It _was_ you sending all those things for the last two days! Why? I've been a nervous wreck! I've begun to hate the sound of my own doorbell! Didn't I tell you that the year-long paid rent was too much! And now all those gifts! And this!" he said pointing at his collar, "I feel like I've been on a crime spree! How am I supposed to start paying you back! How...Why, Brian? Why did you do...?" Blake couldn't finish. He burst into tears, feeling like the neurotic mess that he was.

And then he felt himself being enfolded into Brian's larger frame. He hugged him fully and put his mouth next to his ear. The crown cheered even louder. Blake didn't understand how that was possible. They had been cheering throughout and had heard none of Blake's tirade.

"I did what I did do, because the light of my life had gone out. A flame brighter than the sun was snuffed out and my soul would have been as dark as the emptiness of space, as dark as the death that had claimed my Snowshine. You relit that flame and brought him back. Anything I give you...do for you...will never be enough. Never," Brian whispered in his ear. "However, the last two days were not my doing. Well...almost..."

"But if you didn't, who did? The clothes! The collar..."

"The cake..." Ted said reminiscently.

"I did!" said a voice behind them.

Blake whirled. Someone had come out of the doors of Town Hall.

Well, of course, it was Justin.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Snowshine had really dressed up to his name today.

His thick, white hair had been cut and waved and impeccably styled. His goatee was just long enough to cover the point of his chin and cut into a sharp point. He wore white everything, shoes, suit, tie. Like Blake, he was salt to Brian's pepper. He was so white and bright, the snow seemed dull.

Snowshine went to Brian first, who dipped him deep in a kiss. Everyone cheered their approval.

Then he came over to the podium gestured Blake over as well. He motioned for silence and eventually got enough quiet so that he could be heard.

"Of course it was me, Blake. I sent over the collars. I sent you food and clothes. And still it..."

"The cake was my idea!" Brian yelled joyfully, in interjection. Somehow his words were loud, too loud and they carried. Snowshine looked over at Brian indulgently and smiled a small smile.

"I thought it was," Blake said.

The crowd laughed and clapped.

"And still it is nothing," Justin continued, "They were simply gifts, diversions in preparation for the real gift, the real celebration for which we are gathered here today."

But _why_ are you celebrating?" asked Blake, "I do not understand how I have earned such favor!"

"Blake...have you not yet guessed? I would always award someone the way I have...and celebrate...and honor that person...who saved my life!"

Justin gestured. Two footmen Blake had not noticed pulled on ropes and the drape on top of the doors fell away. Underneath was a banner stretching across that said in bold letters: **TODAY WE HONOR AS TOWN HERO, BLAKE CARTER**

Blake was appalled. His gentle, humble soul was cut to the heart. His eyes were wide with horror. He stumbled and grabbed for Ted. Ted was there. Thank God. He couldn't breathe. Things grew hazy around the edges of his vision. Passing out. He was going to pass out. With Herculean effort, he sucked in a huge breath and managed to stay upright.

"Justin! You must stop this! Stop it right now! I don't..."

"Why would we stop!" yelled Justin for the benefit of the crowd, "When we're just getting started!"

The crowd cheered madly.

And again, they (he) was swept away against his will and he and Ted were ensconced in those two leather armchairs to the right. At the same time people were coming out of Town Hall. There was:

Lindsay and a plus one, a woman with long, dark hair. Michael and Ben. Debbie and her plus one, (holy hell, was that Agent Horvath! When did _that_ happen?) and finally Emmett with his plus one, a man as big as a linebacker. (When had _that _happened?) They all settled into their purple seats around the smaller seat with Lindsay and Melanie on either side of it.

When they were all seated, Justin went to the door, opened it, and beckoned. And out came Gus, dressed in an identical suit to Brian's, blue tie and everything. His shoes were glossed to a high polish. His hair was neat and he looked like Brian's Mini Me. He carried a single red rose.

He toddled over to Blake and offered him the rose.

"This is for you Blake, 'cuz you helped Justin to breathe again. Daddy says I get to call him Papa soon, so this is for you saving my other Papa!"

And he puckered prettily and leaned over and dutifully Blake leaned forward to receive a kiss on the cheek and took the rose from the 6 year old. He was so cute it hurt his eyes and broke his heart. He kissed Gus back on the cheek and said: "You're very welcome Gus," and was amazed when his voice didn't crack and lightning didn't strike him dead for impersonating an important person.

Everybody clapped and cheered dutifully.

Gus toddled back across the stage. He had just moved to the other side of the podium when he stopped and looked at everybody down below. He knew he'd never have another chance like this. He waved madly.

"Hi Everybody! I got to give Blake the first gift!" he announced as if nobody had just seen him doing it.

Everybody screamed with laughter and cheered and waved back at the adorable little boy.

Blake chuckled along with everybody else but inside, he wondered...the _first_ gift?

Brian swooped him up and kissed his adorable baby face and then set him on his feet facing the chairs. "All right Sonny Boy, that's enough. Time to sit down now. Remember how we practiced." And he gave him a little pat on the butt toward his center chair.

"OK Daddy, don't worry, I 'member," And he toddled over and sat in the center seat that was just his size.

What followed was _the most_ horrifying, uncomfortable, sycophantic two hours of Blake's life. One by one, the DWARVESZ (yes, even Ben) came forward and told a little story of his or her point of view during that terrible time of hiding and how Blake had protected the group as a whole and personally, then they gave a personal account of their point of view of the party and what Blake had done to save Snowshine. After, they came along with a local merchant and presented him with another gift. There was among others:

A round trip ticket and accommodations for two for seven days in Hawaii...lifetime passes to the local Opera and Classical music organization (here Ted perked up and a hungry look cam into his eyes)...a certificate for all new computer equipment, and spy stuff as well (microphone pens, a watch that would have made James Bond jealous and the like)...a huge basket containing an entire huge ham and bratwursts and other meats...a basket filled with all sizes of wheels of all different cheeses...a gift certificate for a soap store that would let them have a host of hand made soaps made out of milk and aloe and camomile and mint and all sorts of things and besides that, aftershave and creams other potions for the hair and skin...a certificate from a vitamin shop...until Blake's head was spinning. He watched everything with a wide-eyed fascinated horror. He felt split in two. Outside of himself, he could see himself dutifully nodding and smiling and saying thank-you for everything. Inside...he was screaming.

And then Snowshine got up and started his account and all the accolades started to slide all over Blake like oozing oil and stuck in his stomach and pinched it painfully with guilt and unworthiness. And the screaming in his head got louder and louder and joined itself with a great rushing sound in his ears until it drowned out Snowshine's speech entirely.

The screaming grew louder and louder and suddenly his two halves snapped together and he was foisting all the cards and gifts he was holding onto Ted and he was on his feet and he was screaming for real.

"OH STOP! THIS MUST STOP! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE! STOP! STOP! **STOP!"**

And finally, _finally_, everything and everyone stopped and looked over at him. Snowshine stopped and looked over at him. "Why Blake! Whatever is the matter!"

Blake strode over to the podium and still projecting for fear they stop listening to him again yelled: "EVERYTHING'S the matter! This whole thing! This should not be happening! I'm no hero! I'm just...just...nothing! Ladies and Gentlemen! These proceedings..." he slapped the podium forcefully, "...are a fraud! I am a fraud!"

The crowd gasped. Blake smiled grimly. NOW he had their attention!

. "But Blake, what are you talking about!" Brian popped up from his seat, "I was there. I saw you perform that technique. I _watched_ you save Snowshine! How can you be a fraud?"

"Yes, of course I did it! I did it because it was my duty! I knew what to do, so I did it! I didn't think, I just acted! If Justin had needed CPR and someone knew it, wouldn't you have wanted that person to do it, without asking, without question? Would that person be any more or less special than he had been five minutes before!"

"Yes," Snowshine said quietly, "They would."

"ARRRRRGGGHH! You're not listening! Don't you understand! Don't you understand _how_ I knew that technique? It was...It was because...Because, in my drug days, _I _overdosed and _I needed someone to perform that technique on ME!"_

There was total silence.

"NOW...Now you begin to see..." continued Blake into the microphone for everyone to hear, "Looking back on those days...the drugs I took...the things I did...I stole...I slept in basements so filthy you only see them in your nightmares...I woke up to rats chewing on my hair, and when I did sleep it was for days at a time because the drugs would keep me up for days as well! Looking back on those days...is like looking back on a dream...on a past life! This man...!" he pointed an accusing finger at Ted, "This man..."he said more gently as he went over and took Ted's hand and pulled him up. Envelopes scattered everywhere, but neither cared. Blake brought him over to the podium.

"This man...woke me up...got me help...let me die...and live again. My life with him was when my real life began and started again. Stockwell forced me to act...to flash back...to revisit a nightmare...so that thanks to a drug overdose..._another_ person had to die and live again. This celebration is a celebration of that old life...of my degradation...of my crimes...we might as well be celebrating me using the crystal in the first place! That...is why this must not continue! I don't deserve any of this! Not this!" He ripped off the collar and dropped it onto the podium. "Not those certificates, not the cheese..."

"_Pleasedon'tsaythetrip! Pleasedon'tsaythetrip!"_whispered Ted furiously under his breath.

"And especially not that trip!" Blake roared.

"_Dammit!"_ Ted deflated like a balloon with disappointment.

"I'm sorry. I guess I've ruined everything for you all now," Blake said with his eyes cast down. "But that's just how I feel. I didn't do what I did for personal gain. I never asked for a thing and I never would. I did it to save a life. That's it. That's all. I'm no hero. I'm sorry."

There was a moment of silence.

And then there was a burst of applause and whistling and stamping as if this was the most inspiring thing the crowd had ever heard. Blake stared. Hadn't they been listening to a word he'd said? Why were they cheering? Why weren't they throwing tomatoes?

He turned to Ted in consternation and started at the soft, doe-eyed shining eyes of his partner. "What? What is it?"

"I never knew you felt that way about me. I never knew I did that much. I love you so much," And Ted dipped him, right there and kissed him deeply in a kiss that curled Blake's toes.

The cheering and whistling turned into catcalls and bawdier whistles. Ted set him upright and Blake tried to figure out which way was up.

And when he did, he looked over at Justin whose wide, white smile rivalled his suit. His shining eyes were like two blue stars.

Then he came over and hugged Blake and kissed both his cheeks.

Then he said, "Blake, you saved my life. I can never thank you enough for that. And your humility and selflessness are truly inspiring. Don't you see? I don't care where you learned your remedy. Just that you learned it. That you knew it and cared for me to use it when you could have panicked and waited for officials who wouldn't have known and let me die. I'm so young Blake. I was to be the youngest detective on the Force before Stockwell started the chain reaction that threw us together. I am one of the youngest mayors if not the youngest, Pittsburgh has ever seen. You are young too. And now, thanks to you, we have so much more life to live! Life to love with our partners! With our Princes. With both our Princes."

Here a look of fierce joy lit up on Brian's face. "Snowshine! You've always…I mean, am I really, finally…?"

Snowshine turned to Brian. "Yes Brian. Ever since you lost me and gained me again, ever since you kissed me awake, you have been my Prince at last."

Snowshine turned back to Blake. "Blake, you turned grief into happiness! And you did not ask for anything! That is what makes you a hero most of all! If you had asked for a reward, believe me we would not be here, right now.

"We – we wouldn't?" asked Blake.

"No." A hardness came into Snowshine's eyes. "Selfishness, pride, greed, fortune hunting. That is Stockwell's way. I would have sent you away with nothing."

Blake gulped. For the first time, he realized who he'd been yelling at. Sure, Justin was his friend but he was also the mayor. He could crush him like a bug if he wanted to.

His mouth was dry and he stiffened his knees to keep them from knocking together. "Justin, I only...I didn't mean..."

"But you not only asked for nothing but rejected that which you were given. For these reasons, I am going to match everything that was given and you shall be given double! Which includes the trip, which will now be two weeks!"

The crowd screamed for joy.

Blake's heart was full but his tongue came up empty. He was simply struck dumb with amazement and happiness.

Justin retrieved something. He ceremoniously affixed his diamond collar back on his neck.

"This is yours. It is a gift, freely given whether you deserve it or not. I want you to have it. You may not be _a _hero...but you are my hero."

"All right Justin. Thank you. But no more gifts...And you do realize that was one of the corniest things I've ever heard."

Justin laughed and hugged and kissed him one more time. "True." He looked over at Brian who was holding Gus and went over to join them. "But I'm beginning to realize I'm beginning to like corn a whole lot." He lifted his face for a kiss and was met by Brian bending down to kiss him with fierce joy.

"Thank you very much for coming," said Blake into the microphone, "But I think that's it. There isn't any more."

"Wait! There's one more thing!" said a voice.

Blake turned wearily. What now?

It was Ted. "There _is_ one more thing. That is...there could be. I mean...I too, have a gift."

"Oh really! Oh Ted, didn't you hear a word I said! I don't want anything! Not for this!"

Ted held up a small black box and flipped it open. Inside there was a pair of rings. "Marry me," he asked simply.

The crowd gasped. Everyone on stage gasped. But Blake did not gasp. He was overcome with a real rage.

"YOU! I thought you of all people would have listened to me! But you just sat there and looked and listened with your dick the entire time didn't you! Planning and plotting this...with them...the whole time!" He whirled on Brian and Justin.

"OK! Which of you put him up to this! Which of you gave him those rings? I won't take them! I won't marry anybody with gains gotten here!"

"Nice one Bri," said Justin.

"Not me. Waaaay too lesbianic a move for me. I was just going to congratulate you. It seemed the kind of ridiculously romantic thing you'd come up with."

"You both didn't do it?" Blake asked.

They shook their heads.

But if you didn't do it...Oh my God!...Then that means..." The thoughts game slowly, like a ticking clock counting out the seconds, compiling a simple picture in what seemed like hours. He turned back to Ted, who was the picture of sadness and rejection. "That means...this is for real!"

"Yes...well, it was. Why did you think it was fake? Did you really think I wouldn't pay for our own wedding rings?"

The crowd was on the edge of their seats. There was a large collective desire for popcorn.

"Ted, no! It was just this whole thing! This whole hero ceremony. I thought...I thought...I thought they pulled you into it!"

"I've wanted to ask you for a few weeks now. I was even..."

"You wanted to ask me this morning! That's why you dressed me! That's why you were acting so strangely!" Blake realized in a rush.

Ted nodded. "I was waiting for the perfect time. But it never seemed to come. And then we were in a hurry. I couldn't ask you then. But I can ask you now." He bent on one knee. "Blake, I love you so much, with so much of my heart that there is none of it left without you. I want to be with you always. Marry me...be my legal partner, whatever we need to do."

"But how did you afford rings! Oh my God! Are those platinum?"

"Six months salary...at my new job."

"Your new job? What new job?"

"Brian just hired me a few days ago. I'm chief CFO of Kinnetic."

"So this _was_ you!" Blake accused Brian.

"Hey, I just gave him the job," Brian said breezily as if it were no big deal, "If he wants to turn around and go all lesbianic, I can't stop him."

"Oh Brian, you're terrible," chastised Justin lovingly. He called out to Blake, "He's just a big Yenta!"

"Oh boy, Yenta!" yelled out Gus, "I love Christmas! I want a bike Daddy!"

The laughter was deafening.

"So this proposal...is real? This is really real?" asked Blake again. He felt weird again like he was in a dream.

"Yes! This is really real! Now...will you marry me or not! We have a two week honeymoon waiting for us!" Ted found the plans for Hawaii.

Would he? Was he kidding? "Yes! Yes, I'll marry you! And be your legal partner! And whatever else there is! I already am! I think...I always have been." Blake framed his face and kissed him. "Sorry for the rocky start," he whispered. Then he pulled back and squealed like a girl. "Put it on me! Put it on me!" he squealed jumping up and down.

Ted steadied Blake's shaking hand and slid his ring on. He handed the other one to Blake. Blake put it on Ted's finger.

Ted grabbed him and kissed him in one of those deep dips again. There was a huge roar of appreciation from the crowd again. Blake was set on his feet and he leaned on Ted, their heads touching.

It was finally sinking in. It was real. Ted loved him. Justin loved him. Everybody loved him, not for who he had been, but for who he was, _right now_. He had saved Justin and in the process Brian and Gus. Blake looked over at all his friends, whose faces were shining with happiness and pride for him. Well, except for Debbie and Emmett who were both sobbing into hankies.

"Oh brother!" he thought, shrugging internally, "If they're like this now, what are they going to be like at the wedding!"

He shrugged a little and shook his head at their antics. A wide smile cracked his face in half and threatened to never stop. He looked at them and mused at how far they had come since that short time ago since Snowshine had entered their lives. He watched them, Brian and Justin and now with little Gus, making a pretty picture; Lindsay who had always been lone wolf holding hands with Melanie again. Michael, gone from Whiny to Winner and won his own Prince in Ben in the process. And even Debbie and Emmett had hooked up with love even if it was a boy de jour in Emmett's case as Blake suspected. Oh, but what a day...and night he was in for with that beefcake!

Blake`s arm tightened around Ted`s waist and he felt a returning squeeze. He couldn`t wait for Hawaii.

His heart overflowed and he leaned over and kissed Ted again deeply. Ted was a little surprised but he recovered quickly and returned it.

And in their kiss, he lived happily ever after.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

And that's the end of our tale. Well, almost. There is one more thing but it's so anticlimactic, I thought I'd leave it till the end.

Stockwell had indeed suffered a complete psychotic break. He never spoke to anybody. Hey kept him strapped down or when he grew too tiresome, they'd put him in a rubber room and strap his hands in those giant ridiculous rubber blocks so he couldn't hurt himself.

The reason he'd grow tiresome was because although he never spoke, he laughed. Constantly.

From the night of the party until now, he laughed. From the moment he awoke and remembered, till he _finally_ closed his eyes in sleep, he laughed. He chortled. He giggled. He tee-hee'd. He ho ho ho'ed. He laughed maniacally; like Bwa ha-ha-ha-ha...like that! For hours at a time. Then he'd switch again. On and on, he never stopped.

He wouldn't talk to the police. He wouldn't talk to his court appointed lawyer. He wouldn't talk during his visits to the psychiatrist. He just laughed and laughed and laughed.

Eventually everybody just left him alone and the psychiatrist prescribed a mild sedative that left him in a suspended animation sleep until the trial whereupon he could be pronounced officially insane.

On the day of the trial, he was brought into the courtroom with his lawyer and under heavy guard. He was still laughing.

His lawyer had strenuously impressed upon him the importance and solemnity of being in a courtroom and before a judge and somehow he had gotten through to Stockwell a little. He only tittered and giggled and would hold his breath and let the laughter build and before letting out a few loud HAW HAW's before covering his mouth with both hands and letting it build again.

Eventually, the gallery filled up and the DWARVESZ came in, taking seats near the front to show their support.

Stockwell laughed and waved at them. He remembered them. His lawyer pulled and held his arms down and looked apologetic. The DWARVESZ just gave them both looks of disgust and utter loathing.

Brian and Horvath came in and sat at the top of the court on the side of the Prosecution. Brian had been apprised of Stockwell's condition. He too took one look at Stockwell, one of contempt and disgust, as one might look at one of those exceptionally large cockroaches before crushing it beneath your heel. Then he looked forward again and never looked at him again.

The judge came in. Everyone stood and the lawyer pulled Stockwell to his feet. Stockwell clamped both his hands over his mouth and his face went slowly red as he tried to contain himself.

"Please be seated. Ahh yes, I'm aware of this case. Counselor, advise your client he has one minute, starting now."

But Stockwell needed no advisement since although he was stuck in this terrible, hilarious limbo, he could still hear. He immediately let loose and began a series of side splitting laughs, real belly laughs as if he were letting loose a hour's worth of laughter in a minute. It was as if he had been watching a professor do something particularly embarrassing like bending over showing his whole ass to the class and had to suppress the laughter for the rest of the class. It was as if he had been watching Seinfeld. (Uh...well, if you were into that sort of thing, I for one never saw the humor in that.)

Anyway, he laughed for his entire minute and the gallery supporting the prosecution (which was full) and the DWARVESZ looked on in utter disgust. Brian looked forward, his cheeks dry, his face impassive.

Finally, the minute was up and the judge banged the gavel and Stockwell took a deep breath and stifled himself. He let out the occasional quiet chortle but otherwise was quiet. Everyone ignored him utterly from then on.

The judge asked to hear the charges. The Prosecution attorney began a long list: murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, embezzlement, illegal gambling, fraud, loan sharking, police brutality, income tax fraud and evasion, and many other crimes that went on for at least a minute.

"Who are these gentlemen with you?"

'This is Agent Horvath of Internal Affairs. He was the agent assigned to the case and heard firsthand the defendant's taped confession. This is Brian Kinney. He went through numerous risks and considerable peril to bring Stockwell to justice. His partner was also Stockwell's last and most recent victim of attempted murder. We thought he had earned a place up in front here."

At the words, "attempted murder" Stockwell's laughter faltered a bit as if he was saying "Wait! What the fuck?" but then returned to normal chorts and chuffs. He figured he had heard wrong.

"You thought wrong," the judge said, hard assily, "Sorry young man. Into the gallery with you."

Stockwell gave a burst of brief, shrill, mocking laughter.

Brian shrugged non-committally and then silently and as expressionlessly as if his face was carved in stone, got up and joined the DWARVESZ, sitting beside Debbie.

"Now...what do you have to show me?" the judge asked.

"First, are the financial logs and records that the defendant kept detailing his amassed ill-gotten wealth and exactly where all of it came from," said the attorney. The bailiff approached with a sheaf of papers at least a ream of paper thick. "We have highlighted a few transactions of the first three pages specifying deposits gotten from loan sharking, embezzlement, or downright blackmail and coercion on a one-on-one level."

The judge perused these pages and then put them down wearily. "Yes, everything seems in order. Bailiff, please take these to my chambers where I'll look over everything in detail later. Thank you."

The bailiff bowed, took the papers and left for the judge's chambers.

"Second we have the taped confession of the defendant actually confessing to several crimes and beating a young boy he was holding in unlawful imprisonment."

The terrible tape of when Brian and Guido were locked in that basement cell was played back. Everyone was sickened. Stockwell giggled as if to say "Whoops se doodle!"

"The judge looked over at the defence attorney and scowled, "I'm aware of your client's condition but advise him he should keep as quiet as possible. This is incredibly incriminating and very serious for your client!"

"Yes Your Honor! Sorry Your Honor!" the defence council apologised.

"Do you have anything else?" the judge asked.

"Yes Your Honor. Our star witness is outside waiting. We felt it best to keep him out of sight of the defendant until it was extremely necessary."

"I understand. Please call him in."

So a bailiff went to the door and beckoned and called someone in. Everyone turned to look.

Snowshine walked in. He wore a white suit and a sky-blue tie. His hair was gleaming white and shiny and soft and coiffed perfectly to a part to the right.

He walked up the aisle and moved to enter the front of the court and the witness stand.

However, that's where the trial was ended and won.

For as Snowshine entered and walked up the aisle, Stockwell glanced over. He did an exaggerated double take. The laughter that had never left his lips died in his throat. His face grew red and slowly blackened with rage. A feral growling began deep in his throat.

As Snowshine reached the front of the court, Stockwell broke completely. He jumped to his feet.

"NO! NO! You're dead! YOU'RE DEAD! I KILLED YOU! I KILLED YOU! You can't be alive!" He jumped over the barrier. "I KILLED YOU ONCE, I CAN DO IT AGAIN! I'LL KILL YOU UNTIL YOU STAY DEAD! STAY DEAD! STAY DEAD! STAY DEAD!" He seemed stuck like a macabre broken record He rushed forwards, he hands curved into talons for squeezing.

Of course he never got anywhere near Snowshine. He was tasered, sedated, handcuffed, strapped, wrapped and bundled off to the Grimmsly Bros. Asylum for the Criminally Insane. He was pronounced guilty then and there on all charges.

When he woke, he had definitely changed his tune. He still never talked again. Only instead of laughing, now, he never stopped screaming. In anger, in pain and in fear. He screamed the scream of one who has awoken from an especially terrifying and realistic nightmare. Only continuously.

And there he spent the rest of his life, most decidedly, UNhappily ever after.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

And so, the Liberty Diner gang grew in love, happiness and prosperity.

They all felt better after having closure with Stockwell and his evil. As well, it was decided that after the IRS had taken a healthy chunk, Stockwell's ill-gotten fortune was to be split between all the DWARVESZ for their instrumental role in Stockwell's unmasking and capture. They were ecstatic. Of course, all of them gave a portion of their share to charity but even after that, it still left each of them multi-millionaires.

Double G's share, of course, went into an educational trust for university. Of course, he was ready for university when he was 12 so he didn't have long to wait. He was accepted into Harvard and became a famous heart surgeon.

Winner quit his job at the hateful Q-Mart after coming out and blasting his boss about letting such blatant homophobia rule the workplace and making it such a toxic environment. He also told off several of the most offensive co-workers and then left that place forever. He sold his comic book and with the money bought a small store space and opened Red Cape Comix. He and Ben invested their share of the reward money which they lived on for the rest of their lives after getting married.

Vixen and Melanie got re-acquainted, remarried and generally re-everything-ed. Hey lived quietly and happily part time with Gus until he went off to university.

Red and Horvath got married. Red never lost the desire to work though. She used her share of the money to buy out and renovate the Liberty Diner. She kept it Diner style but made improvements, expanded it, and got two new stoves...and a dishwasher. Now twice as many fags could order their burgers, fries, onion rings, and pink plate specials, or just have a safe haven to hang out on Liberty Avenue. Red was thrown into a more managerial role but she never lost the love of serving her boys and they'd never know when she'd bust out in her loud glory with her frizzy red hair and vest full of buttons as waitress, not to mention judge and jury, smashing her water glass before she got ready to crack some skulls. And so, everybody learned to mind their P's and Q's.

Luigi and Guido used their share to help finance a new restaurant. The new space needed to be renovated and made over a bit but when it was, it was more fabulous than the old one had been. A large portion of the booths all had those privacy curtains and Luigi and Guido made sure a Rainbow decal was on the door and that it was very evident that it was a gay friendly restaurant.

As promised, Luigi and Guido were full partners and developed a close father/son relationship from then on. Luigi never called Guido stupido again and moreover Guido kept him in check to make sure he didn't call any of the staff that as well. The mayor came to dine on the Grand Opening. Soon after that a food critic came who gave them rave reviews. Fame and fortune never stopped following them after that, for the rest of their lives.

Swish Stick's boy de jour turned out to be a bit more than that. They lasted about a week whereupon they broke up for a while due to Drew (the beefcake) being unhappily married and in the closet. However, they remained friends, made up, matured, grew, broke up, made up, broke up, made up again and generally had their own messy romance, which lasted several years, and I won't get into here. But that's how it goes sometimes. The path of true love is not always smooth, but rocky and full of bumps.

Blake and Ted got married, became legal partners (and everything else) and went on their Hawaiian honeymoon where all day they lounged on the beach or went sightseeing and all night they fucked like bunnies. Well, you know, those gay ones.

At last they got home and lived out their year in their rent free but now somehow impossibly small apartment. After that they bought a big loft like Brian's, only different. They too had their ups and downs and the trappings of wealth did not always sit well with Blake. But they both never wavered in their love and lived together in peace for the rest of their days.

And Brian and Justin. They went back to the mayor's mansion and found the rest of the rooms and fucked in every single one. Brian put up his loft for sublet and moved in with Justin where they lived happily until Justin's term as mayor was over.

Justin did everything he promised and more. Equality became the norm in the town of Pittsburgh. Gay marriage was legalized. Justin, as mayor, performed many of them himself, especially those of his friends. For gay rights, for equal pay and treatment, Pittsburgh indeed became a shining jewel. Whether or not, other cities, states, Washington, DC, followed their example and became shining jewels themselves, I cannot say. I'm still waiting.

And afterwards, they moved back into Brian's loft…well both of theirs as they had gotten hitched a year or two after Stockwell was put away. They had Gus over regularly as they petitioned for joint custody. And then, all too soon, Gus was off to college.

However, that wasn't the end of our boys. Brian remained highly sexual and Justin matched his stamina with ease. As for Justin, he just enjoyed being in the loft with the sun coming through the windows and relished never having to go underground again. One day he sat down and started sketching again by the wonderful windows. He'd always been good as a police sketch artist but this was the first time he did it for fun. It wasn't long before Brian noticed and brought home paints and brushes. Justin graduated to paints and took off. His talent was amazing. Eventually his art career took off and…

Well that's another story to be told another time. Perhaps you even know it. (Wink.)

I guess what I'm trying to say (at last) is that all of them, in their own way, in their own time, lived happily ever after.

THE END


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